Phoenix Wright: Ace Tribute
by Number One Fan of Journey
Summary: When Phoenix Wright is reaped for the 11th Hunger Games, he finds himself swearing to defend his district partner Maya. The arena proves to be full of traps and enemies, but, maybe, with a little help from the friendlier tributes, he can pull it off. Or so he hopes.
1. Hello, Goodbye

Author's Note: Hello, all. Have a story that won't leave me alone.

The writing style's going to be a bit different here, as it's a bit more difficult to merge a video game narrative with THG than, say, an animated narrative. Also, this is more of a matter of writing something I need to write rather than created a polished work of art, so the smooth-reading editing won't be happening so much. I do apologise for that; I'll at least try to keep actual errors out of the work. Aside from that, I make no promises.

And for anyone not familiar with Phoenix Wright... Firstly, I recommend it. Secondly, you'll miss a lot of jokes and coincidences, but you should be able to keep up. Lastly, I opened the story in a way consistent with the openings of cases, so sorry if the initial transition seems a bit jerky.

Otherwise... The characters are younger, of course. This only features characters from the first game and the first trial of the second because that's as far as I've played (I'm working on it, all right?). They don't exactly all know each other, and... yeah. It's a crossover. Let's have some fun.

* * *

_I can feel the sticky blood snaking down my forehead, even when I can't see the ground in front of me anymore. My skull must be breaking into smaller and smaller pieces, the way it feels, and..._

_I guess this is it. As hard as I tried... I guess it couldn't have turned out any other way._

_Maya... I'm sorry that this had to happen. But this... this is the end._

* * *

I've just managed to convince Larry that now is not the time to make kissy faces at his girlfriend when the escort draws a name.

Sometimes I have to wonder what's wrong with Larry. Beard Guy up there is about to throw someone into a field full of murder, and he's still acting normal. Or, _his_ "normal."

But even if he does get a little crazy when it comes to his girlfriends, he's a good guy at heart. It's not like he doesn't care about what's going on; he... would just rather make kissy faces at his girlfriend. I guess he wants to enjoy every moment of the week or so he'll have together with this one.

Assuming she isn't about to be reaped.

Holding my breath, I watch the escort take the slip back to the podium in the center of the stage. With his grave expression, he reads the paper silently before looking up at us.

"I declare District Five's female tribute to be—" He holds up the slip, as if everyone beyond the stage can read the words for himself. The sixteen-year-old section gives one of the best views, and I can barely tell that there are two words on the paper.

"—Maya Fey."

Maya... Fey?

A girl from the age section just behind me starts to push her way through the crowd. The two giant beads in her hair match her purple overcoat, although the huge bow around her waist is a little more pinkish. As she walks up somberly, the large, white beads of her necklace clack quietly in the quiet of the reaping crowd.

..."F-Fey"! Is she Chief's little sister? The curvy stone in the middle of that necklace even matches hers...!

The escort watches her walk onstage and calls for any volunteers. No one looks ready to throw herself in, even when Maya's eyes start to water. Don't cry, Maya...

Maybe I should do something. I can't take her place, but... She's Mia's sister! I have to do something. Should I volunteer for male tribute, or wait and see what happens...?

I guess I shouldn't be so hasty. This is the Hunger Games we're talking about. I won't be able to protect her very well unless I want to die—not to mention murder the other tributes. And I can't do that. Even if I have no other way to repay Mia for what she's done for me...

Darn it! I-I should have looked after Maya right after Chief died. I thought I had enough to worry about myself, but now it's too late.

I'm sorry, Maya. I wish I could help, but... I can't go in that arena.

The escort moves on to the bowl of boys' names and, closing his eyes to ensure the pick is fair, takes one from somewhere in the middle. Maya is looking down at her feet rather than watching him as he returns to the podium microphone.

"And," he says, "I declare the male tribute to be—" I feel Larry stiffen next to me. I guess he could only celebrate his girlfriend's luck for a minute before he had to worry about his own.

"—Phoenix Wright."

...Say what?

I just stare at Beard Guy blankly, although sweat is already soaking into my undershirt. It takes Larry screaming to snap me out of it.

"Nick! No—Nick!" He grabs my arm. "Don't go up there, man! You can't go! They'll kill you!"

Stammering, I wrench myself out of his grasp, but he doesn't stop blubbering.

"Larry." I inhale and look at him seriously. "_Shut up before they think you're volunteering!_"

Cutting off in the middle of my name, he chokes and gives up, watching with shiny, teary eyes as I turn towards the stage. Either everyone knows my name or Larry gave it away just now, because the crowd has already parted in front of me.

Hands trembling... Vision... fading...

Shaking myself, I march ahead with my chin up, focusing on my breathing and hoping I don't manage to trip on the way there. I make it over the steps fine and take my space opposite Maya.

Is... this really happening? Us two? We're going to the Hunger Games?

"If there are no volunteers..." The escort pauses, although not as long as he did for Maya. "...Then I present to you your tributes for the Eleventh Annual Hunger Games!"

...This _is_ happening. What am I going to do? How am I supposed to handle a situation like this? If only Chief were here—

"Please shake hands, and then you will be escorted to the Justice Building for your final goodbyes."

Jumping, I look up at Beard Guy, who frowns. "Were you listening, Mr. Wright?"

"Uh, uh, yes, Your Honor!" I cringe. "Sorry..." Rubbing the back of my neck, I sidestep him to see Maya. She's still sniffling, looking at the ground as she holds out her hand. The poor girl. Now that I've been dragged into this, there's no way I can let her try to fend for herself.

I take a deep breath and shake her hand.

"Maya," I say, voice low. "I am going to defend you."

* * *

I don't know why they call this the Justice Building. There's nothing just about the place. Does it help free the innocent? Convict criminals? Allow all crimes to be tried in—What did those books call them?—a court of law? No. In fact, it does exactly the opposite; they should call it the _In_justice Building! I guess that would be bad for their image, though. Hmm...

The room I get is definitely centered on the color blue. It's a bit eyesore, but at least it matches my suit.

Two chairs face a lumpy couch, where I sit. A Peacekeeper—more like Conflictkeeper!—stands with his back against the door as he stares ahead, unmoving. The wallpaper has a pattern based on the classic atom diagram, and it's peeling a bit. From the shade, I'd guess no one part has been replaced recently. The old carpet is faded between the couch and the door; I guess this room doesn't get much use outside of people sitting here. What else did they do here before tributes were first brought in?

The door swings open with a creak, and I reflexively get to my feet.

"Nick!" Larry charges in as the guard closes the door behind him.

"Larry," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

Tears running down his cheeks, he fists his hands a few times. "I'm finished! What am I supposed to do without you, Nick?"

Great to know you have so much faith in me... Although I guess there's really no reason to believe I'll get out of this alive.

"You'll be fine." Maybe not for a while, but... "Just, uh, try to stay out of trouble, all right?"

Sniffing, he nods. "What about you? Are you—are you gonna be okay?"

I slouch. "Um... How are we defining 'okay'?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess you have a point." He looks to the side. "I... I just don't know what to say. You're my best friend, Nick. You've helped me out of so many problems, I-I probably wouldn't even be here without you. I wish I could—I should have volunteered, darn it!"

"No, no." I shake my head. "I wouldn't want you to. I-I appreciate it, though."

"Nick..." Sobbing, he just scans over me like he's trying to cement the image in his mind. It's probably the last time he'll see me in person, so I can't blame him. It'll be the last time I see him, too...

Squeezing my eyes shut, I give him a one-armed hug.

"You're my best friend, too. And I owe you a lot. I wish we didn't have to say goodbye like this." Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry...

With Larry bawling in my ear, it's a little hard to keep my resolve, but I at least manage to keep tears from spilling over.

"Sir. It's time for you to leave."

I turn to see the guard frowning at Larry and shrug my way out of the hug.

"Sorry." I sniff, tilt my head down a bit, and smile. "I guess this is goodbye, then."

"Y-yeah." His arms drop to his sides like they're dead. "Bye, Nick. Good luck out there."

"Thanks," I say as the Peacekeeper hauls him out.

Luck, huh? I wonder if anyone could win this thing out of luck. But then again, I guess I won't be winning it. And luck's not going to be enough to protect Maya, I'm sure. I don't think _I'm_ going to be enough to protect her. I don't know how I'm going to pull this off, and... honestly, I really don't think it's poss—

No. I'm going to do this, somehow. There's a chance, as long as I don't give up.

Ha! What would Mia say if she caught me trying to be this hopeless? _Wright. Never give in, even when it seems hopeless. Things change depending on how you look at them. You have to believe in yourself if you want to do anything worthwhile. Chin up. You can figure this out._

Yeah. I guess it's hard to imagine how, but I have to believe that I can do this.

I won't let you down, Chief.

* * *

Once the guard pries my parents away from me, I'm rushed to the train station. Maya, teary-eyed and silent, walks next to me as Beard Guy leads, holding out his arms to spread the pressing crowd. Apparently the Capitol must have sent over a whole crowd of photographers, because they're closing in on all sides snapping pictures. I hope my hair looks all right. Bah, when does it not?

The escort, seeing that his cries for the paparazzi to move aside in an orderly fashion are going unanswered, picks up the pace as we near the train. One final push, and we're through.

Panting, I check on Maya. She kept up fine, and she's at least looking around instead of gluing her gaze to her sandals.

I do a little looking around myself. The train car doesn't have anywhere to sit but the floor; it must just be some sort of welcome room. The far wall is mostly occupied by what some abstract-painting-lovers might consider art, although I would call it a mistake. A window, showing the shadows of the train station at the moment, runs along above it. On the inside walls are mounted vases and other adornments. While we're standing in front of a double door now, both of the side doors are plain sliding doors with handles. There's not really anything else to wonder about.

I turn back towards Maya. "You doing okay?"

Blinking, she turns towards me. "I guess..."

"If you two are ready," the escort says, "lunch will be served shortly. Take a ten-minute break, and we'll meet in the dining car." He gestures to the door on our left.

Maya puts her hands together and does a little bow. "Thank you, Your Honor."

Beard Guy lifts his eyebrows, but then he nods and steps over to the dining car.

I look at Maya. "That's not actually his name, is it?"

"Huh?" She presses her arms to her sides. "I don't know—maybe it is."

Does anyone know this guy's name? I'm sure he must have told us at some point, but... Then again, maybe he hasn't.

"Didn't you call him that?" she continues.

"Well, yeah..." It was just my mouth running, but... "You want to address him like that?"

"Why not?" She claps her hands together and smiles. "And then, your friends call you 'Nick,' right?"

I pause. Why would she know—Oh. All of Larry's screaming. That might have clued her in.

"Well, Larry calls me that."

"Oh. So what do your other friends call you?"

"Uh... My other friends...?" I catch myself slumping and try to stop it. Putting my arms akimbo to help straighten me up, I say, "You can call me Nick or Phoenix. I don't mind."

She nods quickly. "Okay. I think I'll call you Nick, then. And I'm just Maya. Nice to meet you."

"You, too—"

The train jerks into motion, sending Maya stumbling with a yelp.

"Whoa!" One hand on the outside doorframe, I dip and grab her arm before she can fall. The edges of her shoes skid on the floor a little before she rights herself.

"Thanks." She glances at the wall-mounted vase dangerously close to her head.

"Don't mention it."

She takes a big step away from the vase and pauses. After watching me silently for a second, she says, "Nick... Why were you saying that you would defend me?"

I let my hand slide off the slick doorframe. "Because that's what I intend to do." I smile a little. "You seem like a nice girl, so I don't think I'll regret it... But I said that at first because of your sister."

She folds her hands in front of her. "M-Mia? Wait!" She jumps, leaning back. "You're _that_ Phoenix?"

Did... Did you think I was a different Phoenix?

"Yeah, I guess so." I rub the back of my neck with a sheepish grin. "Uh, did she talk about me a lot?"

She looks at her feet as she points her toes together. "Well, some." She looks up. "Okay. I understand, then. Still—" she gives me a big smile—"it's really nice of you, Nick. I'll look after you, too!"

"Thanks." My smile relaxes a little.

We're in a terrible situation here. I don't know how we're going to handle it. But... I think we could work together pretty well. We'll wrestle with the situations when we get to them. I just have to trust that we'll be able to.


	2. Meet and Greet

Aside from being fifty times as comfy as home, the train ride isn't much to marvel at. I eat, sleep—or at least try to—and get to know Maya a little better. Not the worst treatment I've had so far.

Then I get to meet my stylists, who will dress me up for the chariot ride today.

It does not take a keen sense of observation to realize that they are really, really wacko. There are skin dyes and tattoos and frills and puffs of every thinkable color and a few unthinkable ones, and they're not put together in any particularly appealing way. But, judging from the women's constant wincing, moaning, and shuffling, they may have been too hungover this morning to dress themselves properly. I couldn't say for sure.

At any rate, being judged by strange women while in my birthday suit is not a pleasant experience, so I will just try not to think about any of this.

I always thought I was decently attractive, but apparently I have a lot of urgent skin problems that need resolving. And dental problems. And... more problems.

I don't feel much like an esteemed guest anymore.

...Is this over yet?

I'm just about to give up on the whole self-esteem thing when they move on to my hair. The girl with the bright yellow tattoos is the first to touch it. With a startled sound, she draws her hand back.

"What? What is it?" her companion starts, swooping next to her.

"There's..." She shakes her head and pokes my hair again. "There's no gel in here."

"What?" the other stylist exclaims, taking a handful and tugging it.

"Yow!" I stumble as I try not to fall backwards from the pulling. I... I should try to stop this.

"No, uh, I don't use any gel. I couldn't afford to do that every day. My hair just, uh, grows like that." They both turn to look at my face, and I can't help but sweat a little. "I, uh, comb it back in the morning, and that's that."

"This is natural?" cries the one with bright teal hair.

"Uh, yes?" I can't help but feel like my smile's a little dorky right now. Finally they realize something that isn't wrong with me. I'm allowed to enjoy this, right?

Gaping, Teal Girl strokes my hair for a moment before I feel the prick of one being pulled.

"Can I have one?" she says tremulously.

...Of course it has to get weird. We are talking about Capitolites here.

"Sure..."

There's a little snap as she takes one, and then she turns to show Tattoo Girl.

"Maybe," she starts, waving the hair around, "I can get the DNA analyzed, and my future child could have this hair!"

Okay. I guess any man would want to have my hair, after all. Seems a little cheap to just copy it like that, but... I'll take a compliment. I could really use one after all of this.

Tattoo Girl ponders this for a moment before waving her finger at the younger stylist. "You'd have to be careful, though. You wouldn't want to give your child any of his other genes."

"Oh! That's true!"

...Yep. Goodbye, self-esteem. It was nice knowing you.

* * *

I barely get a chance to see Maya before we're hurried to the bottom floor of the Remake Center. A curved line of horses roped to chariots stays just about still as pairs of tributes hurry to get to their places. There are some pretty impressive costumes out there. In the dim light, I can see all of the gold and jewels of the District 1 outfits, although I don't think I'll be able to see anything but a glare when they get out in the sunlight. The two by the second chariot look like they've been dipped in molten metal, but maybe they're actually supposed to be stone? I guess there's not that huge of a difference between them.

District 3 is smoke, I guess, and 4 is probably supposed to be based off fishing nets. And then there's Maya and I. Our outfits both seem to be based off electricity, although they don't match as well as some of the other district partners'. I'm at least not being forced to wear anything overly extravagant, although they did dye some little lightning bolts going back across my hair. They promised it would wash out. And they wouldn't mess up the one part of me they actually like, right?

As for Maya... She looks really nice. Her hair baubles and bun have been taken out so her hair is completely down. A few jagged electric arc designs have been put on her arms in little jewels, and her sleeveless dress is a bright yellow that doesn't go terribly well with my electric blue suit. She's a little wobbly in her heels, but I'm sure her stylists wouldn't have kept her in them if they thought she would fall on the chariot ride. Hopefully. You know, I'm really not all that sure that I trust any of the stylists after today...

"What do you think, Nick?" She looks down at her poofy skirt and decides to fluff it up a little more. "It's not very comfortable, but I look okay, right?"

"I think you look super hot, L.O.L."

I jump and Maya lets out an "eek," as one of the other tributes takes a step closer to her. Judging by the mining helmet, I'd say he's District 12, although he's a little, er, plumper than I would expect from that neck of the woods.

Maya takes a step back. "W-why are you staring at me like that?"

Though I would prefer not to describe the way he's looking at her, I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to purge the image from my mind.

"Hey." I put myself between him and her. "Don't you have your own chariot to get to?" I nod at the clock mounted above the elevator. "We'll be starting soon."

The Twelve chortles. "We're still waiting on one loser who had to take the stairs."

I bet you would look down on someone who dared to take the stairs...

I look past him to the other chariots, and it's true. The District 6 chariot only has the female tribute beside it. I wonder what her district partner is doing. Trying to get in some extra training before the Games? Huh. Maybe I should have skipped the elevator, too...

"But—" I turn back to Creepy Guy—"you still have no business over here. I'm sure your stylists want to put on a few finishing touches before you get on your chariot. You'd better not disappoint them."

"Noob." Snorting, he looks over his shoulder. "But it looks like the loser's made it down, so I guess I can start back over. Laters." He gives Maya one more look before walking away.

Shivering, I take a second to gather myself before I check on Maya. She's still staring after Creepy Guy and looking pretty traumatized.

"Maya." I put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about him. He's probably harmless, and he just wanted to shake you up a little."

"It worked," she whimpers.

I sigh as my head stylist motions for us to get onto the chariot. "It's okay, Maya. I won't let him get near you again. Or look at you, if I can help it."

She looks down and takes a step onto the chariot. "Thanks."

I follow her up and position myself as the stylists direct me. I am to look out at the audience the whole time. Not a problem. I definitely won't be looking about seven chariots behind me.

That guy's probably not the biggest of our worries, either. He might be disturbing, but he doesn't look like a murderer. The rest of the tributes... I can't say yet. At least some of them will be. And I'll have to handle that, too. This place—

A blast of music makes me start, and suddenly the clip-clop of hooves echoes in the stable as District 1 heads out. Before long, our chariot is moving, too, and I do my best to keep Maya from losing her balance as we're swept ahead.

* * *

Thankfully, I don't need to get fancied up before I head to the Training Center. I still get an assigned uniform, which is a little too spandex-y, but I at least get to start my morning peacefully. Maya talks some during breakfast, but it never gets too rowdy when our stylists just whisper among themselves and our escort only comments if I say something stupid.

He's not a very traditional Capitolite, is he? In fact, he's probably one of the few people that would be considered weird by both Capitol and district standards.

He only sees us as far as the elevator this morning, though. Maya and I are left to get in and locate the ground level button by ourselves. But it's already lit up around the edges—no surprise when another pair of tributes is already inside. They're facing us, but the far glass wall reflects the 7s pinned to the backs of their uniforms.

"Good morning!" says the girl, saluting without disturbing her hat. A few clips hold her short hair out of her face as she glances at the floor number. "You're the tributes from District 5?"

The doors silently close behind me as I nod. "I'm Phoenix Wright."

"What a cool name, sir!" She relaxes. "I'm Maggey Byrde, and this is my boyf—uh, er, district partner, Dustin Prince."

Dustin, a rather serious-faced young man who looks like he could easily put me in a chokehold, nods. "Pleased to meet you."

"You, too."

"Hey! Don't I get an introduction?" Hands clenched, Maya puffs out her cheeks.

Before I can respond, a faint ding signals the elevator doors opening. The huge gym area beyond them is definitely not another district's floor.

"Er—" I put a hand on the doorway so it won't close—"sorry. Maggey, Dustin, this is Maya Fey."

Maya's pout instantly disappears as she smiles and bows. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you, too, sir!" Maggey says, saluting again.

"Likewise." Dustin presses his left hand against the other half of the door and gestures for Maggey to go through. She glances at Maya and me before saying thank you and hurrying out to the training floor.

After a moment, it's clear Dustin wants us to go ahead, too. I give him a nod of thanks before following Maya out.


	3. Lunch with the Enemy

Now, for the first time, I get a good look at the other tributes. We're all kind of crowded around the man providing instructions for the facilities, but I can still see some faces and physiques.

A smaller girl with round glasses and brown hair in a ponytail stands on the edge, alternately focusing on the instructor and looking back at the elevator. She's from 10. Next to her, a man with a knit cap manages to doze while standing, even with a redheaded girl clinging to his arm and jumping at every movement in the crowd. Behind those two is a pretty big guy from 4 whose district partner can't take her eyes off him. A young man with blue glasses and a bright yellow streak in his long bangs is, in fact, one of the tributes from District 1 and not a Capitolite. A young man with a spot on his forehead twists back and forth nervously, his hands clasped. Next to him is the girl from 8, who manages to look over at me just in time to meet my gaze. She winks and sticks her tongue out, jutting her chest out at me. I decide it's about time I paid attention to the instructor.

"...We should have sparring partners available at every combat station, but if you have trouble finding one, feel free to come and ask me." He smiles. "That's about it. Have some fun, learn some skills, and get to know each other." He dips his head and steps away, leaving us all to stare at each other and the equipment for a moment before a few brave souls break away. One is the big guy from 4—and his accompaniment—and another is a slim girl with dark hair and a strut.

Maya tugs at my arm. "Okay, Nick. The floor's open. Where should we go first?"

I stare at the rows and rows of training stations. Axes. Spears. Daggers. ...Knot-tying. "I don't know. Where do you want to start?"

"Hmm..." She folds her arms and puts one hand under her chin. "Do you want to start at the hand-to-hand station? That sounds fun, right?"

"Sure." I scan until I find a stand occupied only by a uniformed instructor, some younger workers, and two dummies. "Over there?"

"Yup." She takes off without another word, leaving me to catch up.

* * *

We spend all morning on unarmed self-defense, and the instructor has decided that my best bet is to just give up on actual moves and improvise. Maya, on the other hand, does pretty well—I guess she only has balance issues on moving vehicles—although she's so slim I don't think she could get in any effective hits against half the tributes here.

Well, at least it doesn't look like she'll end up having to defend me. That would be... awkward.

Feeling like I'm not going to be trying much more fighting practice today, I find a good bench nearby and sit down.

"Nick! You're such an old man." Although she's still red in the face, Maya decides she would rather stand in front of me mockingly than rest.

"I am not!"

"If you have to say you aren't, then you are."

"I'm sixteen!"

She shrugs.

Sighing, I lean back and rest my arms on the top of the bench.

She still refuses to sit down, instead bouncing on the balls of her feet and adjusting her necklace. I watch the curved stone as it shuffles back to the bottom of the chain.

"Nick?"

"What? Ah, sorry." I rub my forehead and look her in the eye. "What is it?"

She grins. "I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Huh?" I blink. "Ah. It's just... That necklace makes me think of your sister."

"Oh. Yeah." She looks down, stroking the middle stone with her thumb. "They almost match, huh? This one's just a different color." She sighs but smiles before she looks back at me. "Sis called you her pupil. You must have looked up to her, too, huh?"

I rest my elbows above my knees. "Yeah. Yeah, she was a person worth looking up to."

"Attention, tributes!" The echo of a megaphone interrupts us, and I have to look around before I locate the instructor, near the elevator. "The lunch courses have been set out. Please come and fill your plate whenever you're ready."

I just register that he's standing at the end of a line of serving tables before Maya cries, "Yay! Lunch!" and zips off.

"Maya, wait up!" I push myself back to my feet with a little effort and hurry after her. This girl changes gears fast. Especially when food is involved.

Seizing a plate, she goes straight for the first pair of tongs she can find and snatches the biggest T-bone in the pile. I follow her a bit less energetically.

"Only you would try to eat all of that when you had such a big breakfast," I comment, taking a more reasonably-sized piece of meat.

She gets one of the greenish rolls of bread. "Well, I have a separate stomach just for steak!"

I'm sure you do...

We're not the only ones to rush into lunch from the get-go. The scary-faced guy from 2 is a few steps ahead of us, and the pair from 8 is getting their steaks now. I make sure not to make eye contact with the girl—did she just get her hair dyed pink for the chariot ride, or does she intend to keep it that way?—but her district partner still catches me. He looks me over briefly, snorts, and flips his mullet at me.

You trying to say something? My hair's still much better than yours. You already look like you're balding.

I go on down the food line, which holds a lot more than I could ever hope to get on one plate, or in one stomach. ...I guess that's less of a problem for Maya.

I end up following her a while after I've gotten all the food I need, and then we head to the tables. They're all put together to form a banquet table of sorts, so we don't have many seating choices. I go ahead and choose a spot in the middle, and Maya sets down her loaded dish with a loud thunk.

Stretched Face from District 2 takes his seat at the head of the long table, not affording us a glance. I try to look as immersed in my meal as possible when District 8 approaches—it's good food, at least—but the girl still sits straight across from me. Her sparsely-populated plate in front of her doesn't keep her from leaning across.

"Hey, handsome," she says, winking. "What's your name?"

It's difficult to scoot back when the bench is attached to the table. "I-I'm Phoenix Wright, ma'am."

She giggles. "So formal, _Mister_ Wright. You don't have to call me 'ma'am.' 'Cutie' is fine, or 'Bunny'... Or 'Miss May' if you really want."

"I think I'll just call you Miss May, then," I say, discreetly wiping some sweat off my palm so I can use my fork.

"Hey," starts her district partner, turning towards her, "you only told me to call you April." His voice is surprisingly shrill.

April pulls back—_thank_ you—and giggles at him, pulling up her forearms and bending down her curled-up hands like she's imitating a kangaroo. Or maybe she's supposed to be a bunny? "But you're not as cute as him, Winny!"

He cringes back before glaring at me behind his thick glasses. "But my hair is much better!" He flips his mullet at me again.

I slam my hands on the table. "Objection!"

"Don't hit the table." The gravelly-voiced girl who left for the stands early on looks down at us from the neighboring table. "It irritates me."

"Yeah, Wright!" says Mullet Man, thumping his palm down next to his plate before pausing and looking at the vibrating table. "Oops..."

I can barely suppress a laugh as something dings.

That wasn't the elevator, was it? Who would try to leave the training floor in the middle of the first day? Is that even allowed?

Turning, I catch sight of the elevator doors just as they open, one man in a tribute uniform stepping out.

...Okay. This man is going to kill all of us.

"Eek!" Maya leans forward, probably with the intent to hide herself from him. "Nick!" she whimpers. "He's definitely murdered someone before. At least once. Maybe twice."

I try not to jump to the same conclusion myself as I watch the newcomer take a brief look around and approach the first lunch table. He looks really angry... And he's huge, too... Gulp...

Taking a plate, he puts the last T-bone on his dish and goes down the line. Fixated on the food, he doesn't seem to notice as he catches up to Maggey, who's struggling to balance her plate in one hand and scoop something slippery out of a serving bowl with the other.

M-maybe I should warn her. It won't be good if—

He bumps into her. With a gasp, she stumbles to the side, crashing into the serving table as she fumbles to keep her grip on her plate.

The big guy leaps back. "Aah!" he yelps. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Maggey rearranges her feet and pushes herself off the table before looking at him. She smiles. "Y-yes, sir. I'm fine. Don't worry—people run into me all the time."

She glances at her plate, her mouth opening as she realizes her steak has slipped off onto the floor. "Oh. Just my luck."

The big guy gasps and shoots a glance back at the buffet's empty T-bone platter.

"Here!" he says quickly, holding his plate out to her. He hasn't put anything but the steak on it so far. "Take this one. I didn't touch it."

"Oh—are you sure?" Maggey leans back. "That's the last one, sir." She looks down. "I couldn't."

"No, really, go ahead." He sets the dish in front of her. "There's plenty of other food for me." He backs up towards the front of the buffet line. "I'm really sorry about that!"

...Okay. This man is _not_ going to kill all of us.

Maya laughs quietly, probably a bit embarrassed about calling him a murderer. She has no trouble going back to eating, though. I guess I wouldn't expect any less from her.

"WP!" Pausing mid-bite, I look up to see the small girl from 10 abandoning her spot in the buffet line to approach the big guy.

"Oh, Penny!" He smiles. "Good morning."

I guess they're district partners. Now that I think about it, I didn't see any guys from 10 earlier. Was he really upstairs this whole time?

I'm finishing my piece of bread when the both of them come over to the tables. Not very many tributes are sitting together, so there isn't much space left. Especially for a guy like him.

"WP!" Maya calls, waving. "There's still room over here!"

"Ah! All right, thanks." He leads Penny over, and they sit next to us once Maya has scooted a little closer to me. "How are you guys doing today?"

I swallow. "I'm doing all right, thanks... WP, right?"

"Will Powers." He takes a sip of his water. "You can call me WP if you want, though. And who are you?"

"Phoenix Wright."

"And I'm Maya. Maya Fey."

"Nice to meet you."

Maya quickly chews a piece of steak. "Did your mentor have you come in late to make a bigger impression?"

"What?" Will chuckles weakly. "No. I actually just got out of bed." That explains his hair. "I guess everybody forgot to wake me up. I can't say I'm surprised."

"I'm sorry." Penny scratches her cheek, looking down at her plate. "I didn't think to go get you."

"No, it's all right." He gives her a smile before starting on his food.

Maya suddenly stands up. "Okay, guys! I'll be right back. It's time to go get dessert."

I stare at her emptied plate. "I know this stuff is good, but don't make yourself sick. The last thing we need is you throwing up in the middle of training."

"It's okay!" She claps her hands together. "I have a separate stomach for sweets!"

How many stomachs does this girl have?

Will chuckles as she walks away, and I'm hard pressed not to join him.


	4. Time

By the time lunch is over, I barely feel like standing up. Needless to say, I do my best to convince Maya we should try a stand where we get to stay seated. She calls me Gramps but agrees.

The closest station of promise seems to be knot-tying, so I decide to check it out. It wouldn't have its own stand here if it wasn't going to be useful, right? If we get a tent, or a zipline... Oh, or snares. Those have knots, right? Yeah. This is a practical skill that we need to master. Not just a break. Really.

The instructor seems to be out to lunch, but there are plenty of strings, ropes, and helpful brochures at the front for us. The chairs look nice, too, so no reason to stand around waiting.

I grab two lengths of rope to start with, snatch a brochure, and collapse a little too hard into the first chair. It's awfully cushy, and, looking at the unwrinkled leather covering on the cushion next to me, I get the impression these are either brand new or haven't gotten a lot of use. A quick look proves that the instructors for the adjacent weaponry stands are either still around or completely switched out. I guess they don't consider a missing instructor at the knot-tying station to be as much of a problem.

"Nick, can you help me?"

In the middle of a sheet bend, I finish up quickly and put my ropes down. "Sure. Which one are you doing?" I start, turning towards her.

"Gah!" I nearly drop my brochure but manage not to as she holds her hands out to me. I have no idea what she was trying to do with that twine, but she's managed to get it around both of her wrists and put a crazy tangle of a knot between the heels of her hands.

A booming laugh comes from behind me. "She's a criminal! Take her away!"

"Eep!" Maya jumps higher than me before we turn around.

Standing behind us is a guy that looks old enough to be a young instructor here, but he's wearing the tribute uniform. A small bandage rests on the edge of his square jaw, and his hair's a little spiked-up in the front. His shoulders might actually be broader than Will's, although his face gives off less of an "I could kill you with one punch" vibe and more of a, uh... "I could KO myself tripping over my own feet" kind of vibe.

Once she gets over the initial shock, Maya puffs out her cheeks. "I'm not a criminal!"

The other tribute, still grinning, leans his forearms on the back of the third chair. "Then what are you doing in handcuffs, pal?"

Sighing, I take her wrists and try to figure out how the twine is twisted. Once I find the right part, I bet I can make it all unravel pretty easily. "It was an accident." I find an end and pull it out of one of the loops. "At least, I think it was."

Maya nods, apparently unable to keep her hands still while I'm doing this. You just ate enough to knock out a full-grown man. How are you still hyper?

The big guy flops into the third chair, and finally I can see enough of his back to know he's from District 3. "So, you two the experts on knot-tying here?"

"I mean, I know a couple of these, but I'm just a tribute." And it's pretty obvious that Maya isn't a professional knot-tier.

"Hey, pal, I could figure out that much." He gets out of his chair. "Anyway, I heard the instructor here got sick. You might want to try somewhere else." Suddenly panting for some reason, he thumbs to his right. "I hear the observation training station's pretty cool. You should come check it out."

Maya claps her hands together, knocking my hands away in the process. "That sounds cool, Nick! We should go."

I lift my eyebrows. "Do you want me to get that twine off you first?"

"Oh, yeah, sure! Sorry."

* * *

I don't know how popular it was this morning, but when we get to the observation stand, Square Jaw is the only tribute there. A slim woman with short, blue hair and an unhappy expression stands at the front. A barely ajar door guards a small, cluttered room. The walls are all unfinished wood. I'm sure it's a little smoother inside, where we're actually expected to do things.

"Would you like to test your observation skills?" The instructor sounds bored to tears and doesn't even make eye contact.

"He sure would!" says Square Jaw before I can get a word out. Catching my eye, he continues, "I only missed two items, pal. Let's see how well you do!"

"Okay..."

Sounding all but in love with her job, the attendant informs me I will be let into the room and asked to find twenty items within a certain time limit. She hands me a list, checks her watch, and opens the door.

There's barely enough uncluttered space for me to put two feet in the room, but it's at least well-lit. I get to business straight off, though, and I manage to get all of the items together. Hoping I'm still within the time limit, I open the door and step out.

"I think I found everything," I start, presenting my armful of trinkets to the instructor. She glances at her watch again before sorting through the items. Striped candy, a specific toy car, just a bunch of small-sized junk. This seemed more like a session of inanimate hide and seek than an observation test, but I guess it's just not obvious.

"Congratulations," she says. "You found them all within the time limit. You are average."

"...Oh." Really? I pass with flying colors and it gets me an "average"?

The instructor crosses her arms. "If you don't have any other comments, I'll set up again for the girl."

Other comments?

I pause for a second before putting a hand to my chin. "Now that you mention it... Did you change your watch?"

She throws her head back. "Finally!" She flashes her wrist, now encircled with a golden band rather than a copper one. "Someone passes before day three." Exhaling, she folds her arms again. "The kid this morning decided he'd rather argue that dividing time with watches is an unnecessary social constraint, and then this dunderhead wouldn't have noticed if I dyed my hair black."

"H-hey!" Panting, Square Jaw frowns with gritted teeth. "I-I did too notice, pal! Don't listen to her!"

Maya thrusts her fisted hands down. "Don't you yell at her just to make yourself look better!"

Square Jaw takes a step back, his angry countenance vanishing. Shuffling his feet, he rubs the back of his neck and looks back at us with the most pitiful expression I could imagine.

"Sorry." Slumping, he looks between the instructor and us.

While the woman mutters something about district whelps, I find myself nudging Maya. "I think you hurt his feelings."

"But..." Maya pouts for a second before catching another glance of Square Jaw and sighing. "Okay. Sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

He straightens up and smiles, though his eyebrows are still sad. "No, don't worry about it, pal. I deserved that." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck again. "So, you're Phoenix and Maya, right? My name's Gumshoe. Well, Dick Gumshoe, but I'd rather just go by my last name."

"All right, Gumshoe. Uh, nice to meet you, I guess." I glance at the observation station. "I might as well head to a different stand, huh?"

"Yeah!" Gumshoe smiles, panting again. "Me, too!"

* * *

I end up heading to the meat preparation stand as Maya tries for some more self-defense practice. It's a good arrangement. I have no reason to go back there, and she doesn't want to think about skinning animals. I'm sure she'll be totally on board once we're down to the meat, but I'll probably have to do the dirty work myself.

Although there's going to be a lot dirtier work than stripping the guts out of a rabbit.

I take a moment to exhale, and then I focus back on the synthetic game. The instructor lets me know I'm cutting too deep, so I try to back off a little. Unfortunately, I still end up jerking the blade when someone behind me cries out.

"Ms. White!" The caw must be from one of the Capitol workers, and, sure enough, I turn to see the improvised weapons instructor restraining the girl from 1. A handful of others have already started to drift from their stations to see.

"You," she continues, maintaining her grip on the tribute's wrists, "will not attack the other tributes. This is not allowed. I don't care how much influence you have in your district; you will follow the rules here."

A few guards have cut through the crowd, and the heavily-jeweled District 1 girl has settled enough that the instructor releases her. Miss, uh... April? May? June? Er, the pink girl... had apparently taken a fall, but the boy from 6 is helping her to her feet. From the distance he's still trying to keep, I don't think he's fallen for her charms, but there's no reason he wouldn't give her a hand otherwise. She clings to him wailing her thanks, anyway, and it looks like he's doing his best not to start twitching.

Wait...

The crowd breaks up, mostly because of the guards, and the troublesome tribute spits at the instructor before strutting off, towards me.

White... District 1...

"You're not...!" Jumping to my feet, I point at her but can't finish my sentence.

She looks at me in amusement before tucking her fingers under the side of her jacket and chortling. "I'm not going to be vanquifeated in this competition? Is that what you meant to utter? If so, I commend your correct characterization of moi."

Swallowing, I put my arm down as she takes a step closer.

"I am, however, Violet White, the dearlovéd sister of Redd White himself. You're impressed, I see! But it's impracticable to react in any other way."

Redd...

_The barrier crashes into tiny shards of glass as he pounces into the hiding place of the only other tribute left._

White...

_Chief gasps, dodging to his left, but he's already swinging his weapon._

C-chief...

_It only takes one solid blow to the head before she slumps against the wall and her cannon fires._

"I believe you've basked in my glory long enough," Violet declares, jerking me back to the present for a moment. "Goodbye for now, compadre. I'm posicertain we'll meet again." Grinning, she flashes her rings at me before spinning and striding away.

I wobble for a minute before collapsing back onto my seat.

C-chief...


	5. The Edible Plants Stand

"Nick! Are you okay?"

It takes Maya a couple of tries to get through to me. I still end up staring blankly at her necklace for a while before I can shake myself out of it.

"...I'm fine. Sorry." I get out of the chair and stretch my legs a little. "Was there another station you wanted to try together?"

"Yeah, but... only if you're feeling okay." She clasps her hands in front of her. "That District 1 girl didn't hurt you, did she?"

Well... "No. I just, uh, zoned out for a little bit there. Sorry." I grin sheepishly. "Where are we going?"

Maya takes a step back, twisting and looking across her shoulder. "I thought we could check out the edible plants stand over there. We'll have to know them eventually, right?"

Ah, of course. Food. "Sounds good to me. Let's go."

We have to pass quite a few stations, although not all of them are occupied. The guy from the elevator is frowning at a throwing axe, but a fling of the thing proves he's got one heck of a throwing arm. Maggey seems quite impressed. At the fishing stand, the tribute with the pink stocking cap has stayed awake long enough to put together a decent rod, and his district partner is also excited for him. She still flinches as we walk by and hides herself behind him.

Finally we make it to the edible plants station. Two other tributes are keeping the instructor busy—the girl from 11 and the guy from 6. I see he managed to shake off Miss May, at least for now.

Maya and I wait for a minute, but the instructor doesn't look up from the other tributes' faces as they sort through an array of leaves.

Maya folds her arms and stares at the instructor's forehead, but that doesn't work. She coughs but still gets no reaction.

With a sigh, I look over the rest of the station. There are all sorts of synthetic plants in bins on the floor and walls, but no labels or guides. I don't see any other chairs, either, for other tributes or instructors. There sure were plenty of spots and teachers at the hand-to-hand station. Do they not expect anyone to be interested in survival skills, or anything that isn't combat? Or... are they trying to force us to practice at the combat stands while we're waiting on these?

Rubbing my chin in thought, I'm interrupted by Maya clearing her throat loudly. The District 11 tribute glances back at us but returns to her practice soon enough, muttering to herself in French.

I put a hand on Maya's shoulder. "It looks like they're busy. Maybe we should try somewhere else for now."

That earns a glance from all three working with their edible plants. I just catch the 6 tensing before he turns back around, too quickly for me to get a good look at his face. Huh. I wonder what that's about.

"Hey, mister, are you all right?" Maya ducks next to the 6, who doesn't seem to mind looking at her for another fraction of a second. "You look kind of gloomy."

He stiffly lays another leaf on the smaller pile in front of him. "I'm fine, thank you." His voice is so low I have to take a step closer to hear him clearly. "Now, if you would... Go away. Leave me alone."

Maya stands up straight and turns her head towards me. "Okay. I guess we can we go somewhere else. ...Nick?"

I stand frozen for a second before gesturing for her to be quiet. Normally, she wouldn't be so happy to oblige, but I guess I look serious enough for it to work. I take a few steps back just to make sure my footfalls are silent, and then I dart around to the other side of the table, behind the instructor. The gloomy tribute doesn't catch me in time, and I finally get a decent look at his face.

He still turns away as quickly as he can, but it's too late. Once the shock starts to wear off, I quietly walk up next to him.

He hunches over his leaves. "What?"

I inhale sharply. Maybe I'm wrong, but—no. It has to be.

"Miles?" I watch him, but he just exhales.

I try leaning towards his ear. "Edgeworth?"

"Mr. Wright," he acknowledges, voice tired.

Sucking in a breath, I step back. Miles glares at his leaves for another moment before he sighs and gets up. I have to follow him a few steps away from the station before he stops and looks at me. His hair's the same as it's always been. While I wouldn't expect him to be wearing his bow tie in the middle of training, he does have some sort of weird neckwear I can't put a name to. I can't say at the moment if his smile's still the same, and I get the feeling I might never.

"All right, you've found me." He continues to glower at me. "I see no point in hiding anything from you now."

"Miles," is all I can say.

Looking off at an angle, he folds his arms and drums his fingers against his forearm. "Yes, that's still my name. I suppose it's nice of you to remember."

"Of course I remember!" I inhale sharply. "You were one of my best friends! How did..." I try not to choke. "How did you end up here?"

He lifts an eyebrow the tiniest bit. "The same way you did, Wright. I was reaped."

"But..." I feel my knees trying to give out and do my best to fight it. "District 6? You moved all the way to District 6?"

"Yes."

There's a second of silence before Maya steps in. "Wait a second, Nick! You mean—you know each other?" She puffs out her cheeks. "Mr. Edgeworth! Why wouldn't you let us find you right away?"

He looks at her. "Who are you?"

Okay, this part of the conversation I can deal with. "This is Maya Fey, my district partner. I... knew her sister, so we bonded pretty quickly after getting reaped."

"I see."

"Okay, now answer my question!" Maya says.

Miles frowns and looks back at me. "It's not as if I didn't want to see you again. I just didn't want to trouble you with... the fact that I've ended up in such a situation." He grits his teeth, turning his head sideways. "Such needless murder..."

Don't remind me. I-if I'm going to keep Maya safe, you have to... N-no...

His gaze slips back to me. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me in a place like this..."

He would have to... And Will... And Penny... And Gumshoe... And all of them...

You would all have to die...

N-no...! This can't—this can't be real!

"N-Nick!"

* * *

Those fluorescent lights are really far up... I don't think I realized how high the ceiling was.

...Why am I looking at the ceiling?

With a groan, I start to push myself up, and the chill of the concrete floor slowly slips off my back.

"Morning, Nick."

"Huh?" Once I'm sitting up, Maya comes into view, sitting on a bench to my right with her legs crossed. "It's not morning already, is it?"

"Nope, still afternoon." She leans forward, resting her cheek on her hand. "Are you feeling okay? The medics didn't find any damage, so I think you just locked your knees for too long."

"Oh..." I give the room a minute to stop wobbling before I turn to find the clock. I've been out for half an hour. "Oops." Inhaling, I carefully start to push myself to my feet. I'm not all that dizzy now.

I can hear grunts of fighting pretty loudly, and, as a matter of fact, it looks like we're just across from the hand-to-hand station. This must be the bench I'd sat on earlier. Did Maya really drag me all the way over here? So she could sit down, maybe? I ought to call her "Grandma" for that one.

On second thought, I don't think she'd take that from me.

"Where's Miles?" I start instead, sweeping some dirt off my pants.

"I don't know." Her foot bobs. "Once the medics said you weren't hurt, he disappeared. He has to be around here somewhere, though."

I take a look around, but I can only see some unfamiliar tributes and Miss May in the vicinity.

I... I'm not sure if I want to talk to Miles right now. Maybe I ought to collect myself a little more first. I... don't know how, but it'll only keep him away from me if I keep reacting like I just did.

I'll think it through later. I only get a few days to learn skills here, so it's a better idea to put off mulling things over until evening. And I should probably try not to faint in front of a bunch of competitors again.

"Let's hit another stand for now." I briefly make sure my hair's still roughly in order. "Is the edible plants—"

I cut off as Maya, looking over my shoulder, opens her mouth a little. I can only see the approacher's shadow from here, but I'm still pretty sure about who it is.

"Will," I start as I turn around, but I have to stop abruptly. The tribute before me is clearly not WP. He raises his eyebrows nearly to the bottom edge of his headband as I sweat. "I mean, uh..."

The big tribute, who's definitely pretty muscle-bound but not quite as much so as Will, folds his arms. "Jack Hammer, actually. District 4." He glances at Maya before frowning. "Although I guess everyone knows him better by now. Even though I'm the one who's trained for this..."

Exhaling, he sidesteps me and walks on by without another comment. I watch him linger by the camouflage stand for a minute before I turn back to Maya. I guess he hadn't intended to talk to us.

Huh... What did he mean, he'd trained for this? It's doubtful he meant talking to me, so...

The Games? He trained for the Games? Are people doing that now? T-that's not fair...

Well, none of this is...

"It looks like the edible plants station is clear now." Standing now, Maya pivots to face me again. "Still want to go?"

I take a deep breath. Focusing on the training for the rest of the afternoon. Right.

"Yeah. Let's hurry before someone beats us there."


	6. Huh

By the end of the day, I feel like I've accomplished as much as I should have. Maya gorges herself on dinner, and I actually don't go too easy on it myself. Between that and all of the running around today, I barely manage to scrub the sweat off before I collapse into bed.

Surprisingly, I don't fall asleep immediately. Then again, I guess I wasn't intending to.

...So. I'm in the Hunger Games. Twenty-three other tributes go in with me, and, out of all of us, only one survives. The rest die or get murdered.

At least a good handful of the other tributes are great people. One of them is Mia's little sister, and a pretty crazy but nice girl besides. One is a best friend from grade school w-who didn't even want me to know his situation, so I wouldn't be troubled... One is a guy that could easily punch out all of us but... wouldn't hurt a fly... And... there are a lot more...

So, uh, it's obvious that all but one of these people have to die. I decided Maya would survive before I had any idea what I was doing. And I... I _still _have no idea what I'm doing.

Can I really swear to protect her when it means letting everyone else die? Letting myself die? _Can_ I let myself die? Murder others? It wouldn't be from spite or revenge, but... murder is murder. Even Redd White was just trying to keep himself safe, and I can't really forgive him for that. It's not right.

What is right here? What on earth am I supposed to do? Arbitrarily hold Maya's life in higher regard than anyone else's? Abandon her and try to help Miles instead? Abandon him and try to help Maggey? WP? Someone else?

C-can't I just defend everybody...?

There's a knock on the door. Untangling myself from the sheets I've been thrashing in, I sit up.

"Mr. Wright?"

The escort?

Scrambling off the bed, I hurry to stand up. "Yes, Your Honor?"

"May I come in?"

"Yes."

Without another word, he opens the door. In a black robe, he's a little hard to see until he slides the lights on. We lock eyes for a minute, but he doesn't comment.

"Y-Your Honor?"

"Ah, yes." He frowns. "You were unusually quiet at the table this evening. I wanted to see if everything was all right."

"Oh..." I try to relax my stance a little. "Yes, well..." What can I say? He works for the Games. He knows exactly what's going on, right? "Yes, everything's all right."

"I find that hard to believe, Mr. Wright."

Wincing, I rest my arms on the bedside table. "Okay, maybe there's a little bit of a problem here..."

"Well? Which is it? Make up your mind."

I sigh, shaking my head. "Yes, there is a problem. I'm going into the Hunger Games, Your Honor. There are all sorts of things wrong with that."

He nods. "Anything in particular?"

The whole idea of it troubles me, but...

"I promised I would defend Maya. And I want to, and I think she deserves it, but... How am I supposed to protect her when there are so many other good people? How am I supposed to decide who deserves to get out alive?"

The escort raises his eyebrows for a moment before he exhales and sits on the edge of my bed. For some reason I feel compelled to keep standing myself.

"I think you need to understand that you do not make the final decision." He watches me gravely. "Whoever you choose to defend may get an advantage from it, but that doesn't guarantee his or her life, nor does it condemn anyone else. To be truthful, Mr. Wright, I'm not sure that you have the skill to ensure such a thing. The best that you can do is look after whoever seems to need your help. Many factors outside of your actions will help to decide the outcome. You can indeed make a difference, but that doesn't mean the lives of everyone in the arena are on your shoulders."

"Huh?" I can't help but stare at him. This is coming from the same man who can't figure out how to use this floor's television because it doesn't have dials.

"Please, Mr. Wright... Is 'Huh' the best response you can muster up?"

I swallow. "I'm just thinking, Your Honor."

He relaxes. "Oh! All right. I suppose I should encourage that."

W-what's that supposed to mean...?

But... he does have a point. I wish it didn't rely on me being incapable, but... Who am I kidding? I haven't exactly won any Hunger Games before. I'm just winging it. I'm sure I can do some good for Maya, but it probably won't be enough to really endanger any of the others.

The escort gets back to his feet. "You seem much more relaxed, Mr. Wright. Good for you."

I look up. "Thank you, Your Honor."

"Well, then..." He steps towards the door. "I'll leave you to your sleep. Good night."

"Good night." I shake my head. "Ha."

He hasn't quite left the room yet. "What is it?"

"Er—" okay, he heard that—"it's just hard to believe you're from the Capitol. No offense to the Capitol, but..." I rub the back of my neck.

"Oh, that's quite all right." He shuts the lights off. "I'm not from the Capitol."

"H-huh!?"

He closes the door.

* * *

"He must be an alien!" Maya holds up her fists like she might hit me if I object. "What? You don't believe me? Think of his beard, Nick! Have you ever seen a human with a beard like that!?"

I sigh as the elevator doors open. "That's a little out there, even for you."

"Okay, fine. Maybe he's... a time traveler!" She claps her hands together and bounces as we head out to the training floor. "Ooh! And he's come to stop the Games from going any further!"

"I'm not so sure about that, either..."

There are no instructions to give today, so some of the other tributes are already occupying the stations. I'm trying to figure out where to start when I nearly trip over something on the ground. Barely catching sight of it in time, I stumble to sidestep it and instinctively catch Maya's arm.

"What?" She sways a little, but I get back on my feet.

"Sorry," I say. "I almost stepped on that... camera?" I squint at the squarish black lump on the ground.

Of course, Maya only looks at it for a second before crying, "Ooh!" and picking it up. She turns it around in her hands a few times before finding the right button.

"Smile, Nick!"

"Wait—!"

The camera only gives a faint _klik-klik_, and Maya lowers it.

"Hey! There's no flash." She points it at the ground and tries clicking it a few more times.

"You should probably stop that. It's not y—D-don't hit it!"

She frowns, trying to take another picture before she smacks the camera with her palm again.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!" A tribute comes charging at us, afro-first. "Hey, you! Git yer hands offa' that!"

"Eek!" Maya gets her hands off it a little too well, but I manage to catch it before it can hit the ground.

Afro Girl snatches her camera back from me, and the toothy snarl on her face doesn't change as she checks it out. "What in the Sam Hill did you do to my camera?"

Maya covers her mouth. "I'm sorry! T-the flash wasn't working, and—"

"A' course it ain't workin'! They broke it on purpose! Like a camera flashin' is gonna hurt somebody." She huffs, swiftly pushing an array of buttons. I imagine she's deleting all of those lovely pictures of the floor, and probably the unlit one of my face. Can't say I mind.

I pause, putting a hand to my chin. "So that's your district token?"

"Yup." She wipes the screen off on her sleeve and sets it back on the floor with a pointed look at us. "It looks like you didn't maim it with all yer walloping, at least." She folds her arms and smiles a little. "So I guess I kin let y'all off the hook. And you—" she looks behind me—"can come out of hiding now. I won't bite. Hard."

Maya, who had disappeared after apologizing, steps back next to me.

Not sure what else to say at this point, I hold out a hand. "Well, I'm Phoenix Wright, District 5, and this is my partner, Maya Fey."

She raises a short eyebrow at me but shakes my hand, anyway. "Partner?"

I pause. "H-huh? D-district partner! Uh, you know what I mean." Slumping, I let out a sigh.

"All right, all right, quit yer stuttering. I'm Lotta Hart. District 6."

District 6 doesn't seem quite far enough south for her accent... Then again, what exactly is a District 6 accent? I guess Miles stayed there a while, but he still has his stuffy, upper-class District 5 accent. Uh, not that there's anything wrong with stuffy, upper-class accents...

"It's, um, nice to meet you, Lotta," Maya says, still looking a little shaken. "Sorry about slapping your camera."

"Naw, it's all right. It's a gizmo—why wouldn't y'all smack it if it wasn't working?"

"You have a point." I look down at the camera. "Maybe you could move it so no one else will try the same thing?"

"Y'all must reckon I'm just another dumb Southerner!" Baring her teeth again, she bends down and scoops the camera off the floor. "Well, don't go thinkin' we're all that way just 'cause I am." After a moment of thought, she puts her district token up against the side of a station.

"Don't worry; we won't!" Maya smiles at her.

Lotta gives her a look before letting out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna head back to training. Y'all take care, now."

I nod. "You, too."


	7. Trusting

After a rough morning of knife-throwing practice—I don't intend to hit anybody with one, but I have to figure out something to show the Gamemakers tomorrow—we end up eating lunch with District 10 again.

Maya's too busy with the stew to notice Will idly flipping through a book in his lap as he eats. It's not very thick, but quite a few photographs are crammed onto its pages.

"What are you looking at?" I only glance at him so I don't seem overly interested.

"Oh!" He shuts the book—the cover is bright blue and reads "Samurai Scrapbook" in scrawl—and looks at me. "Just something from home." He glances down at it. "It's a little big, so I don't want to carry it around too much, but... I've been feeling kind of down today, so I thought I'd keep it with me."

Maya finally looks up from her bowl. "Down? What's wrong?"

"Oh..." He slumps a little and gives her a none-too-happy smile. "You know. As much as I try not to worry about it, I realize how bad my odds are. I'm probably not going to make it out of here, and that's just kind of hard to handle."

"WP!" Maya fists her hands. "How could you give up like that? Look at yourself! You—you could punch a hole through steel!"

Will chuckles, although his expression doesn't change. "Steel, huh? I don't know about that..."

Maya nods enthusiastically, but WP just looks down at his plate.

"I appreciate it, but... You don't have to try to make me feel better. I know I'm a dead man walking."

His district partner shakes her head. "Don't say that, WP! I-I don't want to think about you getting hurt." She chokes a little. "I don't want to think about any of us getting hurt, but..."

Wide-eyed, Will puts a hand on her back. "Don't cry, Penny! You're—you're gonna make _me_ cry!"

Are you kidding? She's going to make all of us cry!

But... there she goes.

"I'm sorry." Shaking, she tries to wipe at her eyes, bouncing her glasses in the process. "I'm fourteen... I-I shouldn't cry like such a little girl... but... WP..."

"Penny!" Maya wails, stumbling to get over the picnic bench before she hurries behind the girl and gives her a hug. "Don't cry. It's okay." She sniffles. "We're—we're going to look after you!" She turns to me. "Right, Nick?"

I can't even hesitate. "Right." Swallowing, I lean my arms on the table and look Will in the eye. "We're going to look after both of you."

I don't know how exactly I'd be of any use in the Games when we're talking about this giant, but... There has to be something I can do.

"Okay?" Maya says quietly, letting her arms slip off of Penny. "You're both gonna be all right. Maybe they'll even have all of the starting plates close like last year, and we can all be together from the start!"

Penny nods, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. "T-thank you." She still a little bit curled up when she smiles. "That would be nice..."

Maya smiles and gives her a little bow before returning to her seat. Will pats Penny on the back but sighs quietly and looks at his book again.

I give him a minute before I ask, "What exactly is that?"

"A scrapbook. It's not really mine, but..." He rests a finger on a slightly blurry photograph of a guy with a shiny mask standing triumphantly over a fallen, angry-looking brunette. "That one's me. Well, all of these have me."

I glance at a few of the other pictures. "The masked one, I'm guessing."

He chuckles. "Yeah. I tried really hard to get the lead role so I could wear that."

"Lead role?" Maya leans forward. "You're an actor?" She waits for him to nod. "Cool!"

"My family does most of our work in the morning, so I was able to start doing shows with these guys a little while ago. It wasn't exactly a way to earn a living, but I had a great time with it."

I nod, looking at the photographs. "But you say this isn't yours?"

"No. It was from a fan—one of the kids." He chuckles sheepishly. "I think he was a little scarred from seeing my face, but... he came during the final goodbyes to give me this, anyway. It has his own snapshots of every victory I've had during the show." He sniffles. "He said I'd better bring it back afterwards so he can put a picture of me winning the Games in the last slot."

Shutting the book, he presses it to his chest and looks down at the table. "I don't know how well that's going to go, but... This kid... E-even if I do die here, I've at least been a hero to somebody, you know?"

Sighing, I put a hand on his shoulder. I wish I could cheer him up, but I think that book's the best he's got.

"How touching. For your next act, are you going to help a little old lady across the street?"

All four of us turn around. It's the guy from District 2. His voice is a lot lower than I would expect from his just-above-average stature. His expression is not, however, any less mocking than I would expect from his words.

"What?" Will responds, startled.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." The 2 wags his finger at him. "You may have everyone else fooled, but you just admitted you're an actor! As if feigning such a heart of gold would cause everyone to lower their guards around you before you go in for the kill. You won't lie your way into victory so easily—not with me to catch your frankly weak bluff." He grins at the rest of us. "Be glad I've been kind enough to give you warning as well."

With that, he strides away, leaving us gaping after him.

It's a good minute before Will chokes out another, "W-what?"

All three of us proceed to look back at him. He looks between us frantically.

"I—I don't..." He clutches his book. "Why would he—Why would I...?" He puts a hand on his bicep. "N-no one would let down their guard around me, anyway!"

He struggles for another second before his arms go slack.

"I..." He sighs into his stew. "I guess it doesn't matter what you believe about me, anyway... I'll lose this competition either way."

Suddenly on my feet, I face Will and slam my closest hand on the table. "_I believe you!_"

He jumps back a little, blinking up at me.

"Yes, you could be acting. If you got the lead part in a long-running show, I'm sure you could be good enough to pull this off." One hand still resting on the table, I clench my other fist. "But I know you're not lying to us." I inhale. "I know."

"That's right!" Maya decides she needs to get up, too. "You're as genuine as it gets, WP! I can sense it!"

"...!" Will gawks at us for a second before glancing at Penny.

She smiles, rubbing a little more water off her cheek. "And of course I believe you, WP."

Will chokes a few times, clutching at his napkin like it's a handkerchief. "Y-you guys... You're—you're really going to make me cry!"

Laughing, I pat him on the back. "I won't look down on you if you do."

"Thanks."

Exhaling, I let my gaze drift to the right. The other tribute is sitting at the head of the table again. "He's the one I don't trust here."

"Hey, pal!"

"Eek!"

Will has barely recovered enough to take a bite of his vegetables by the time Miles and his apparent new friend put their plates across from us. Feeling the table vibrate, I take my hand off and sit back down, Maya joining me once she's recovered. The slim girl a few meters away doesn't reprimand us for shaking the tables, but she does give us a distinct look of distaste.

"Hey, guys." I nod at them.

The bigger of the two nudges Miles. "What, you're just not going to say anything?"

Arranging his forks, my old friend sighs and looks at me, still glowering. "Wright," he says with an answering nod.

"Edgeworth," I counter, frowning.

It seems like he sighs in relief before he starts on his lunch. Why doesn't he want me to call him by his first name? He wouldn't sit right across from me if he didn't want to make friends again, would he?

Mr. More-Observant-Than-You only gives us a second of silence before giving me a lopsided smile. "Hey! You remember my name, too, right, pal?"

"Of course! It's... Um..." Sweating, I feel Maya looking at me. I'm bad with names, okay? Just give me a minute... "...Gumtree, was it?"

"G-Gumtree...?" He frowns, teeth showing. "Gum doesn't grow on trees, pal! My name's Dick Gumshoe... W-wait! That's Gumshoe to you, pal!" He relaxes a little, although he's still panting. "Anyway, get the name right. And don't go calling me Dick..."

Ms. Don't-Rattle-The-Table is glaring daggers at us now.

"...Yes, sir."

* * *

We're nearly finished eating before Miles—sorry, _Edgeworth_—actually talks to me.

"I saw you at the knife-throwing station this morning."

I nod. "Yeah, I was there."

He opens his mouth but frowns and turns back to his food.

Well, he's sort of talking. I'd better try not to lose him.

"Have you tried it out?"

He swallows and looks back up. "Yes, yesterday." Crossing his arms, he looks to the side. "Would you..." He drums his fingers against his arm. "...like to practice together?"

"Sure." I smile, but he doesn't look back at me. He just nods.

...Well. It's some sort of progress, right?

We all finish up, and everyone but Will and Penny heads to the stand together. Of the three large targets, only one isn't in use. The instructor catches sight of us but adjusts the wrist of the District 9 girl before seeing to us.

"All right, who's first?" Continually flicking a knife upwards and catching it, he looks over our group.

"Not me." Maya steps back. "I'll just be Nick's cheerleader, back here."

"Ha!" Gumshoe gets next to her. "Then I'll cheer on Edgeworth!"

I grin at the only one left standing next to me. "This is starting to sound like a competition."

Edgeworth shrugs, although he's a bit closer to a smile than he was before. "So it seems."

Arms akimbo, I nod at the instructor. "We'll share the target." I turn to Edgeworth. "Should we take turns?"

With a serious expression, he nods.

The instructor gets us two sets of identical knives, four for each of us.

"You may go first," Edgeworth says, loosely motioning towards the target with one finger.

"Setting the stage, huh?" I balance the first knife in my right hand and step behind the line. "I'll try not to disappoint."

Taking a deep breath, I sort out my stance as Edgeworth steps to the side.

I'm going to hit the target right in the center. The bands may not be super-thick, but that doesn't mean it's okay to hit a few rings out. I'm going for the bull's-eye...

With a grunt, I let the knife fly. It spins twice before embedding itself in the target, at the inside left edge of the third ring.

Shoot.

Edgeworth doesn't comment as I step back, but he does take my place and ready himself. He hesitates a moment and throws. The knife sails straight and sticks into the second ring out.

Urp.

Edgeworth actually gives me a mocking bow before he steps out of the way.

Oh, is that how it's going to be? Man, I am going to _beat_ you now.

...If I can. That was a pretty impressive throw. Maybe I should try throwing one without spinning it? I haven't studied that technique much, but...

You know what? No. I'm sticking with my technique. I'm sure it's good enough to beat him.

I set myself up and throw. The knife decides to hit sideways this time, sending itself bouncing off the second band out.

Urp.

Edgeworth sends another knife in the second ring, closer to the inside edge.

Urp.

Okay. Deep breath. I've got this. Right in the center... Right in the center...

I throw, and the knife sticks well. Inside of the third band again.

Exhaling, I let Edgeworth make his next throw. Right in the middle of the first ring from the bull's eye.

He gives me a good smirk before he lets me step up.

I balance my knife in my hand. Is this my last shot already? Darn it. I don't think I'm winning this one.

"Go, Nick!" Maya hollers. "You've got this covered!"

I can't help but smile. All right, Maya. I'll throw this perfectly, just for you.

After a few deep breaths, I throw the knife hard. It spins once, twice, and hits point-first.

Right in the bull's-eye.

I stare at it, my throwing hand still dangling. Did I seriously...?

"Ha!" I spin to face Maya. "I-I actually made it in the bull's-eye! I mean—" resting my hands on my hips and puffing out my chest, I turn to smirk back at Edgeworth—"Of _course_ I hit the bull's-eye."

"M-mmph!" Edgeworth cringes.

Straightening himself quickly, he rushes back to the throwing spot and handles his last knife. On an exhale, he lets it fly.

It doesn't stick.

He cringes again as it clatters to the floor.

"Whoo! Nick!" Maya rushes back next to me as the instructor picks the last knife off the ground. "Even with the bad shots, you totally won that!"

I chuckle. "You might be a biased judge, but..." I turn back towards Edgeworth, who at least certainly looks like he's growling.

"That's right!" Gumshoe steps in. "Even if you lucked out, Mr. Edgeworth still beat you good on the first three throws, pal!"

H-hey, what side are you on? I thought _we_ were friends...

Exhaling, Edgeworth shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid Wright has won this one." He scowls at the wall.

I laugh weakly. "But, uh, it was a good game, right? Where do you want to go next?"

He looks back at me. "That, Wright... is not of your concern."

He charges away. Gumshoe gives us a bemused shrug before following him.

...Okay, did I just ruin my second shot at friendship with Miles, or... or what? I really don't have him figured out, so it's hard to say. He didn't appreciate losing, but... he did want to compete, right?

Urk... I'll just let him hang out with Gumshoe for a while, I guess. I'm sure I can talk to him alter.


	8. Change

"Okay, I officially designate you as our team's fire starter." Maya makes a "pllllbth" sound, dropping her steel wool and flint onto her little wood pile.

I blow on my tinder until I can finally see some flame beneath all of the smoke. "Thanks? I'll, uh, do my best."

"Good." She stands up and stretches her arms back. "What do you say? Want to check out another combat station? I hear they have sword fighting!"

I watch my little fire slowly take hold. "Sword fighting...?" Can you even carry a sword?

"Or something else if you want." She looks me over and then folds her arms, pondering. "What weapon would you be good with?"

The instructor stomps out my fire, and I walk back to the aisle where Maya stands.

"Maybe I can get in a few lucky shots with the throwing knives." I glance at the array of other weaponry stands across the way. "Aside from that... I honestly can't imagine myself using any weapons."

"Oh!" Maya makes fists and holds them near her chin. "So you're just going to punch out the bad guys?"

"Sure, Maya. Sure." Me punching people... That'll be the day. So far, I certainly wouldn't mind socking Violet or the District 2 creep a time or two, but it's still a weird thought.

"Or stab them with your hair!"

She seems a little too excited about this...

"Stab? It's just hair." I sweat. "It would barely even poke anybody."

Unconvinced, she squints at my hair for a minute before backing off. "All right, fine."

"We could review the edible plants, or..." I let out a breath. "Want to see where Edgeworth and Gumshoe ended up? Or WP and Penny?"

"Sure!"

* * *

Gumshoe is standing outside the observation stand. I think I can guess who's inside it at the moment.

The instructor, wearing her gold watch now, looks me over as we approach. "You know, there's no point in doing this again, unless you really want to improve your time for no reason." She eyes Maya. "If you want to try, you'll have to step away again once this one gets out."

"Mr. Edgeworth is inside," Gumshoe says, grinning at us. "We'll just have to see how well he does!"

The instructor looks at him and snorts. "I hope you're not trying for a poorer performance than yours again." Leaning against the wall, she smirks at him. "And speaking of observation skills... You do realize you're going to have to act quickly if you want to ask that Maggey girl on a date?"

...I believe Gumshoe just shrieked.

"W-what are you talking about, pal?" Snarling at her, he pants. "What do you mean, Maggey? I'm not...! Don't accuse me of things you can't prove! Why would I ask her on a date? She has a boyfriend, pal!"

She just smirks harder. "She's been trying not to make that fact obvious. How would you of all people notice if you weren't looking for it?"

Gumshoe opens his mouth, but the station's door swings open before he can say anything. Edgeworth, catching a glimpse of me and not seeming surprised, steps out and presents his armful of goods. The instructor, looking bored all over again, goes through them.

"Hooray, you found everything." She glances at her watch, and her eyebrows rise the slightest bit. "Record time, too."

Of course it is...

I catch Edgeworth smirking at me. I'm guessing Gumshoe already told him I tried this stand. Well, I guess Miles deserves to beat me at something, sometime.

"You have average observational skills," the instructor drones. "If there are no comments, I'll take back the items and set up for the next tribute."

Edgeworth gives her back the items, and she gives him one last look before taking a step towards the door.

Wait...! Maybe he didn't notice...!

He gives me a smug, sideways look and turns back to the instructor. "Just a moment, please..."

Oh, boy.

The instructor stops and turns back to him, still managing to look profoundly bored. She's not giving him any hints, that's for sure.

"Finding all of the items requested in record time gets me an average, you say?" Edgeworth taps his forehead with one finger, still smirking. "The true point of this exercise is obvious!"

Folding his arms, he looks at the room. "While the item hunt in itself can indeed be considered an exercise in observation and detection, it cannot be the main challenge here if a perfect score yields an average rating. Likewise, there is far too much clutter in the room for appropriate attention to be given to irrelevant pieces. Ergo, the point of this exercise is not even in the main room!"

He turns back to face the instructor. "Of course, the only thing affiliated with this particular station outside of the room is you, so the matter I was intended to observe concerned you."

He pauses there, and I start to relax. All the deduction in the world isn't going to save him from not noticing the watch. He can't see it now, either, the way she's holding the armful of items. I still win!

"Don't relax so soon, Mr. Wright." Arms still crossed, he gives me another self-satisfied smile. "I'm not finished yet."

"W-what?"

He turns back to the instructor. "In fact, the rest falls into place with the consideration of one detail: the time limit. There was a working clock on one of the tables, so anyone going in would be able to keep track of his or her time and slow or rush the investigation appropriately. But I was never given a specific time limit—no one was." He glances at both me and Gumshoe, and neither of us can object.

"Nor did the time limit have any impact on the rating of my observational skills. Put simply, it's pointless to the searching exercise. But—" he points a finger at the instructor—"it is all too necessary for the true observation exercise. So my only clues to the test are you and the time limit—and where do those two things intersect?" He taps his forehead again. "Your watch."

Ack!

"The supposed time limit gave you an excuse to glance at your watch, without raising suspicion, both before and after the test. Ergo, it was what I was supposed to notice—you are now wearing a different watch than you were when I stepped into the room. Since it was copper before, and only someone with exceptional observational skills is intended to notice the change, I will conclude that the watch you are now wearing is a similar metallic color—gold, perhaps?"

The instructor pauses before shuffling her load to reveal the gold-banded watch. Edgeworth smirks, turns to me, and takes a bow.

W-why couldn't you just notice she changed it like a normal human being would?

"Wow, Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe pants. "That was amazing!"

"Thank you, Gumshoe."

The instructor smiles a little. "Yes, I believe I'll have to change your score to 'Observational Genius.'"

...What was my score called again?

Edgeworth folds his arms, still—of course—smirking. "Until next time, Wright."

With that, he turns and strides away.

* * *

By the end of the day, I've decided Edgeworth doesn't really hate me. He's a little too embarrassed about losing the knife-throwing competition, and he still won't chat much or call me by my first name, but he at least doesn't object to my company now. He's just upset. We're in a terrible situation, so that's understandable...

Still, it's weird that he's been shocked to near-silence when he isn't showing off. He didn't exactly ramble as much as Larry back in school, but he was a pretty normal kid—as far as conversationalism goes. Is he only like this now, or has he changed that much since he moved? It's been... seven years, so I guess that wouldn't be out of the question.

Whatever made him move wasn't anything ordinary, either. He only grimaced when I asked him about it, and then Gumshoe decided I was prying too much, and... Anyway, I don't know if I'll ever get to hear what happened. I hope it didn't change Edgeworth _too_ much...

No. I'm sure, deep down, he's the same old hero he used to be. I don't think anything could change that.


	9. Training Center, Day Three

The lunch buffet on the third day is full of burgers, and I don't think Maya could be any happier. Of everything the Capitol has to offer, she's the most excited about something we could just fix up at home. Although I guess there's nothing wrong with having a taste of home out here. And they're still pretty fancy for burgers.

Of course, with Maya dragging me, we're the first tributes through the line. We sit in the middle of the long table, as always. WP and Penny are the first to sit with us. Then Edgeworth and Gumshoe. Maggey and Dustin. Lotta. Miss May and her district partner. More tributes sit down, of course, but we're already pushing the range of conversation with this group.

I can feel the nerves going around since the private sessions start so soon. We basically talk about nothing but the food until Maya catches Lotta with her camera out. It's just sitting there on the table.

Well within my district partner's reach.

Maya—!

She swipes the camera while both of Lotta's hands are occupied with a burger.

"Say cheese!"

Half of us aren't even looking, let alone posing, when she clicks the shutter.

"Hey! Y'all give that back!"

Jumping, Maya only sees Lotta reaching for a second before she suddenly tosses the camera to me. I'm barely able to wipe the grease off my hand in time, but I do manage to catch it. Lotta turns to me, and I gulp.

I don't realize I've passed the camera to Will until it's already out of my hand.

With a chuckle, he passes it to Penny, who blinks for a second before Lotta gets out of her seat and hurries over. Penny rapidly surveys the other side of the table before throwing the camera to Gumshoe. He's paying just enough attention to catch it, and Lotta nearly leaps over the table before he passes it to Maggey. She hands it off to Dustin, who throws it back to Will, who slides it to Miss May. It's a miracle the thing hasn't been cracked yet, but when it comes back to Maya, I'm not fast enough to prevent her from tossing it to Gumshoe.

By this point, Lotta looks just about ready to explode. Gumshoe hangs on to the camera long enough for her to try going to him. With a laugh, he hands it over to her, much to the disappointment of the crowd.

Well, I guess that went on long enough. It was pretty fun, but I wouldn't want to break her district token.

The table goes quiet for a moment as Lotta heads back to her side and sits back in her place. I barely even notice Edgeworth silently reaching for the red pencil tucked behind Gumshoe's ear before he throws it to me.

"Huh? What?" Gumshoe pats the area above his ear and checks the table right beneath him.

I throw the pencil to Dustin. Finally catching on, Gumshoe reaches across Edgeworth towards the 7, but he hands off the pencil to his district partner. With a laugh, she tosses it to Penny.

Gumshoe's considerably less upset at the game of keep-away than Lotta was, but he still runs around and flails trying to get his pencil back. Lotta hesitates for a second when she catches it, but, after one look at Gumshoe's face, she chortles and flings the pencil to Will. I'm not sure if he's aiming for the 8 with the mullet and he just overshoots, but the pencil goes sailing towards the diva who doesn't take kindly to table-hitting.

Catching it between her fingers, she looks at us for a moment as Gumshoe starts to tiptoe over.

"Hmph." She passes it to Creepy Guy, her district partner. He looks at her for a minute as if expecting orders, but she just watches him evenly. He throws the pencil back, Maya catching it.

Maya laughs for a good few moments before she throws the pencil to Edgeworth, who only glances at Gumshoe before tossing it to Will.

It doesn't take much more throwing and laughing before we're all as out of breath as Gumshoe. The pencil even makes it to the loopy District 9 fellow, who hands it off to his girlfriend before it ends up back in the middle again. Poor Gumshoe's having to run circles around the lot of us.

Miss May catches it and pauses for a moment as Gumshoe hurries over. She grins and then, er... wedges it a little bit below her collarbone so that not much more than the dull point is visible. Gumshoe comes up short and pants at her, bewildered.

"Okay, you can have it back, big boy," Miss May says, winking. "Just take it. Tee hee!"

"Uh..." Still standing there, Gumshoe scratches his ear and tries not to look at the pencil.

"Oh, goodness." Hopping out of her seat, Maggey steps over and carefully plucks out the pencil herself. She pauses and wipes the red-painted end on the knee of her pants before she offers it to Gumshoe. "Here you go, sir."

"U-uh—" he takes it with a trembling hand—"t-thanks, pal."

Maggey smiles. "Don't mention it, sir."

She goes back to her seat, although Gumshoe stands there dumbly for a while. Miss May pouts but eventually goes back to her meal. Half of us, myself included, still haven't quite stopped laughing. Even when I start to get it under control, one look at somebody else at the table trying not to burst out laughing cracks me up all over again.

You know what? I don't care if this _is_ the Hunger Games. Look at us! We're not going to start killing each other! There's no way! They'd better just call this off. They already made their point—they already had their tenth anniversary, and we barely remember the days of the rebellion, anyway—so, you know what? We're just going to put an end to this this year. They can't have their Games if we don't hurt each other. And we won't.

No way.

* * *

All of the food is cleared out by the time the first of us is called to present skills. We're all still sitting together at the table, but conversation has mostly broken down as we turn our attention to the task at hand.

By the time Violet is called into the other room, Will looks about ready to have a breakdown.

I give him a nudge, trying not to make him jump. "You doing okay?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah." He sniffs. "Just trying to figure out what I'm going to do. If I mess up, we might not get any sponsors..." He looks at Penny. "i'm sure you'll do fine, but they probably won't give you a very high score, anyway."

"Really?" I rub the back of my neck. "Your job here is probably the easiest of all of ours. You could just hurl something really heavy across the room and get an 8."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. Don't worry so much. You've got this."

Not having a napkin to grasp at, he clutches his sleeves. "All right..."

The District 2 creep walks out when Manfred von Karma is called. Geez. Even his name sounds mean.

It's not long before Gumshoe is called. We wish him luck, and he does the same for us before he leaves.

After his district partner leaves, the 4s go, and then it's my turn.

"Good luck, Nick!" Maya cries. "You're going to do great, I know it!"

"Thanks." I get up. "Good luck to the rest of you."

Maggey laughs a little. "Thanks, sir. I'll need it."

Edgeworth gives me a nod and wishes me luck as well. I let the 10s do the same before I hurry into the other room.

It's set up about as it was. The Gamemakers are in a little compartment halfway upstairs, watching me walk in as they drink. There are actually quite a few little paths up there. I haven't seen any of the Gamemakers observing before now, though.

They look like they expect me to do something, so I stop waiting for a clear invitation to begin. Heading for the throwing knives, I try to keep my head clear. I'll get a few different kinds and throw them, and then keep throwing the kind I'm best with until they tell me to go. I'd probably do a little better at one of the survival station, or the observation one, but that won't impress them. I've been practicing throwing these for today, anyway. No reason to have wasted that time.

I have to adjust for a minute between every kind of blade, but I still get them all thrown in a minute. Three more of the same kind of knife, and then the Gamemakers dismiss me. I thank them and leave.

I didn't hit the bull's-eye this time, but I still did all right. Maybe I've earned a good enough score. There's really no way to be sure until I see them tonight.

* * *

I thought about trying to bring a television to the roof and invite the others, but it probably wouldn't work out. It's too late to contact them now, anyway.

So, with Maya's help, the escort gets our floor's television on the right channel at the right time. The announcer makes way too many bad jokes before he starts to go through the numbers.

Violet White, as small as her frame is, gets a 7. von Karma gets an 8. The average being 6, they're both on the tougher side. All I can say is I never want to see either of them in the arena.

Maya bounces in her seat, making the whole couch vibrate. "What do you think Gumshoe'll get?"

"I... don't know." I lean back. "I never really saw him in action. He is a big guy, though."

Maya manages to stop jiggling her legs for a moment as Gumshoe's name and mug appear on screen. Below him glows an 8.

"Woo!" Maya throws her arms in the air. "Good job, Gumshoe!"

I duck to keep from getting accidentally punched. "Yeah. He did pretty well."

His district partner gets a more average score. Jack Hammer receives a 9. Wendy Oldbag gets a 6. And then it's District 5.

I swallow as my picture comes onscreen. The announcer, as usual, hesitates a moment before revealing the score.

5.

...Well, it could have been worse.

"Oh!" Maya huffs. "That's not high enough for you, Nick! Don't they know how smart you are?"

I laugh weakly as the picture switches to her. She starts bouncing again, and then her score appears. Also a 5.

W-wait, I didn't do any better than her?

Maya puffs out her cheeks. "They must have not been paying attention to either of us!"

"Well..." I trail off as Edgeworth comes onscreen. 6. Not bad. I wonder if he just threw knives, too?

Lotta gets a 5. Dustin, 7. Maggey, 3. Ouch. I'm sure she's tougher than that. Maybe she just got nervous and messed up.

Miss May gets... a 7? _Her_? What on earth?

"Do you think she just flirted with the Gamemakers...?" I ask no one in particular.

"I should hope that alone wouldn't give her such a high score," says the escort, blinking. "Although I do hear she's prone to... wanton winking."

Yeah, she's definitely prone to some of that...

District 9 gets some low scores, and then it's Will's turn.

"Go, WP!" Maya yells like he's still able to change his score.

An 11 glows underneath his picture.

"Whoa!" I jerk.

Maya bounces. "Awesome!"

"He—he got an eleven!" They really give those out?

The escort leans forward a bit in his chair. "You seem to have chosen a good ally."

I nod but try to calm down as Penny appears. She gets a 3. I guess I wouldn't have expected much better but... still. Poor girl.

The rest of the scores don't command attention, but I at least look over the names. Frank Sahwit. Cindy Stone. Sal Manella. And last, Dee Vasquez.

And that's it. All of the scores.

The escort gets up from his chair. "In comparison, you two didn't do so poorly. It will still take some work to continue securing sponsors, but I'll do my best."

I look up at him. "Thank you, Your Honor."

He nods. "You two get some rest tonight. You may not be practicing fighting skills tomorrow, but training for your interviews won't be easy, either."

Maya responds with a bow and a smile. "Understood!"

The escort nods and takes a few steps towards his room before pausing. "You two know how to turn off the television, don't you?"

I grin, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yes, Your Honor."

"All right." With that, he leaves.


	10. Interviews

I'm sure all of the reprimands for my conduct and tone of voice are necessary, but that doesn't make suffering them any more fun. I at least get a few breaks when the escort works with Maya, but Interview Day is pretty tiring.

And then there's getting to stand up the whole time my costume's being done. I'll at least get to sit down while I'm waiting to be interviewed. That's about it.

I'm still going over my lines in my head when the stylist finishes up my outfit. I'm guessing this time around we're focusing more on the nuclear part of energy. I don't know why my suit needs glitter flakes in it, but the glow-in-the-not-so-dark effect is pretty cool.

...As long as this is as "nuclear" as it gets. If she tries to simulate the hair loss I'd get at this much exposure, I'm out of here.

But she only gives me a little makeup before she sets me free. I step outside my room, but Maya isn't out yet. Hoping it won't somehow mess up my outfit, I sit down for a while and wait.

It's half an hour before Maya's done. Her hair is down again, and her ballgown is glowing but still clashes with my getup. Oh, well. I each each stylist has her own vision here.

"Ready to go down?" Leaning one shoulder towards me, she smiles. "It's still a while before the interviews. I bet we could hang out with some of the others for a little bit." She claps. "Ooh! I wonder what their costumes look like this time around?"

"Yeah." I smile, although I'm sighing internally as I get back up. "Let's go see."

We're the only ones in the elevator, but the ground floor button is a little slick with sweat. We'll be running into somebody down there.

Sure enough, when the doors open into the mostly covered-up training floor, a small group of tributes is standing around, their escorts and stylists off chatting as well. It doesn't take much effort to locate Will, although his district partner doesn't appear to have come down yet. In a bright orange suit that goes surprisingly well with his hair, he's talking to his escort when he catches sight of us.

"Hey, WP." Maya hurries to meet him first, lifting her skirt a little to do so. "You look great!"

He smiles. "Thanks. You, too!"

"Thanks." She grins at him. "Mister Eleven, huh?"

"What? Oh." He chuckles. "Yeah. I was pretty surprised by that myself."

I rest my hands on my hips. "I'm guessing you didn't just throw a couple of things around...?"

He shakes his head. "I actually tried some fighting. Since my character was a martial arts master, one of the older fellows in the troupe had taught me some good moves, you know? It was a little weird trying not to pull my punches at the last minute this time around, but I guess it worked! Surely I'll get some sponsors from that, right?"

"You'd better!" I say. "To think you were worried about that!"

"Haha, yeah, I know." He lets out a breath and glances at the door. "I'd better stay calm for now, though. My escort decided it would be best for me to act mean for my interview... I've been practicing all day, so I should be able to pull it off, but..." He slouches a little. "I hope it won't be too jarring for Penny. Or anyone else, for that matter."

"She'll understand." Maya fists her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm kind of looking forward to this now, though! Mean WP! It's hard to imagine."

"Thanks..."

"Hey! How's everybody doing?"

I turn to see Gumshoe, his big smile as lopsided as ever. He's done up in a decent suit, all brown and grey with gear-shaped buttons.

Maya jumps—has she ever not when he shows up?—but recovers quickly. "Hi, Gumshoe. We're doing pretty well." She grins, raising an eyebrow. "But probably not quite as well as you after getting an 8."

He grins, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Impressive, huh, pal?" He rubs the back of his neck. "Even though I almost tripped on my way into the room..."

"Really, sir? I did trip on the way in!"

Flinching, Gumshoe turns to see Maggey joining the circle. In elbow-length gloves and a somewhat modest dress that's covered with what seems to be a cross between feathers and tree bark, she pulls a strand of hair away from her glasses. Gumshoe stares at her for a second before looking off to the side.

"Good evening, everyone," she says to us, saluting. She then flinches back a little, blinking. "Oh, dear. Maybe I shouldn't do that so hard with the cast."

That recaptures Gumshoe's attention. "C-cast?"

Maggey lowers her arm, her gaze dropping with it. "Yes, sir. I managed to trip and break my wrist right at the beginning of my private session. The rest didn't go well, but... you already know that much, sir." She rubs her hands together. "My stylist came up with these gloves to try to cover it up, but I guess it won't stay a secret for long."

"Oh, no..." Maya slumps, loosely covering her mouth with one hand. "Right before the Games, too..."

"Yeah..." Maggey straightens up. "But don't worry too much, sir. I'm sure Dustin will take care of me."

I nod, although I can't help but look down. What rotten luck...

"Maggey!" Maya grabs her hands. "You can always come to any of us if you need help, okay?"

"That's right, pal!" Gumshoe's panting again. "We'll do whatever we can to help, too!"

Maggey rubs her elbow. "Thanks, you guys."

Dustin joins us, followed by Lotta and Penny, but Edgeworth doesn't arrive until there's no time left to talk.

I wonder why he insists on taking the stairs, even when he's all dressed up. Does he have something against elevators? I only know of one usually working elevator in District 5—the one in the Justice Building we've both ridden a few times before—but I don't know much about District 6. I wonder if something happened to make him afraid of elevators... and more reserved... and maybe even move to another district? Come to think of it, he did move away not long after Mayor's Day...

...This is all just conjecture, though. I should try not to go too far when I don't have any evidence.

* * *

The interviewer takes a little time to warm up the audience before we get started. Violet White is the first to take her spot in the middle of the stage. From her dress and attitude, I can only guess her interview angle is something along the lines of "strikingly brilliant."

The interviewer starts off the conversation with her training score, to which she responds elusively, although she does mention that she has a mean punch.

"Are we going to need to stow some brass knuckles in the arena for you?"

She scoffs and flashes her ring-laden right hand. "Such a drab weapon is not suffadequate for my personage. I demand _gold_ knuckles!"

Uh, gold is pretty soft. I don't think that would work out so well for you.

...Unless they're also studded with diamonds, in which case we might still have a problem.

I have to steel myself when the inevitable question about Redd White comes up.

"Are you planning to follow in the footsteps of your older brother, the victor of the Eighth Games?"

She laughs. "Of course. I do believe antiquity will recapitulate itself." With that, she just manages to flash a wicked grin at Maya before her interview continues.

I feel my district partner shiver and, since the others' eyes are fixed on Violet, I take Maya's hand for a minute. You're not going to get hurt. She's not going to kill you like her older sibling killed yours. I promise.

I let go when Richard Wellington is called, and, thankfully, Violet doesn't spare another look at Maya as she heads back to her seat.

Wellington gets out a surprising amount of words for a three-minute interview. Of course, when the host can't get a thought in edgewise, it must be easy. Still, you've got to hand it to the guy for making all-but-terse comparisons of himself to Galileo, Joan of Arc, Maurice Utrillo, Spartacus, Julius Caesar, Cellini, Wagner, and Darwin in under five minutes.

von Karma's interview has a clear sinister ring to it, although I can't help but just label him as arrogant. Gumshoe's angle is a "lovable oaf" type, although I don't think he's acting much. Wendy Oldbag is ferocious, Jack Hammer quietly determined.

And then Maya's up. I wish her luck silently, and she steps up to the interviewer. Although she's plenty cute and mischievous in response to the typical questions, the host still brings up Mia. I catch myself fingering the district token pinned to my lapel as the audience quiets.

"Sis..." Maya's eyes tear up. "I-I still really miss her. A lot of us back home do. She helped so many people, and..." She looks down. "It seems a little silly to think I could do better than her here, but I-I'll do my best!"

She bows just in time for the buzzer to ring. My turn now. I get up, giving Maya a nod of approval as we pass each other.

Thankfully, the host doesn't jump to any conclusions and ask me about Chief. The audience already knows about her from her own Games, more than I could hope to tell them in three minutes, and this interview is about getting to know me. So, here we go.

I think I do all right. I'm a little too nervous and tired for all of my jokes to be good, but the interviewer at least plays off them well. It's over more quickly than it seems it should be, but I sit down with no objections.

I'm still trying to get the sweat off my palms when Lotta's finished. Then Edgeworth is up.

...Well, good thing I didn't try to pull any observational stunts in my interview—the escort dissuaded me earlier this morning—because Miles manages to correctly deduce the names of the host's girlfriend and two pet cats. At least he isn't specifically making _me_ look bad this time.

Maggey, managing not to give away her broken wrist, hints that she may have been hiding a thing or two in her private session, and Dustin stays calm for his interview. They don't give many clues about their relationship, although they do admit to being allies. After them come Winston Payne, who starts off well but becomes increasingly flustered, and April May, who quickly accumulates a loving male fanbase.

Polly Jenkins, District 9, won't stop shaking, although she presents herself fairly well as her district partner's girlfriend and sometime caretaker. Yanni Yogi has to be woken up for his interview. He's still half-asleep throughout it, not saying much until he starts to ramble about his noodle shop back home.

Next is Penny Nichols, the cute little girl of the year. And then Will Powers. I watch in anticipation as he marches to the center of the stage, his hands clenched and his shoulders back. While he's facing away from me, there are plenty of screens around for me to catch a glimpse of his face. Serious, which is a pretty terrifying look on his mug.

His introductory responses are all growls and glares, and I can't figure out whether it's more frightening or hilarious. Frightening because... it's frightening, or hilarious because this is WP threatening to hurt someone, which is just impossible. He's definitely a great actor, I'll give him that.

At one point, the host, seeming a little nervous and searching for a question, says, "So, do you plan to crush the other tributes' bones to make your bread?"

Will crosses his arms, flexing them pretty heavily in the process. "That's a little cliché, don't you think? I'd rather try something a little more... creative." He ends with one heck of an evil grin.

You know what, he actually is pretty terrifying when he wants to be...

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Manfred smirking. Upon catching my eye, he raises an eyebrow at me victoriously and turns back towards the show.

He seriously thinks this is the real Will...! I mean, it is a pretty convincing act, but—hey! von Karma's whole theory was that WP was trying to get our guards down—how would revealing his "true nature" now be consistent with that motive?

As much as I want to point that out right now, I manage to do nothing but squirm in my seat a little until Will's time is up. He lets out a breath but makes sure to keep his scary face on as he goes back to his seat.

The 11 girl looks like a model, while her district partner just looks nervous. Vasquez isn't bad-looking today, either, although her terseness doesn't make for a very fun interview. And last is Manella, whose speech is so peppered with incomprehensible slang I'm not sure how to interpret it. At least he's too nervous to give Maya another look.

And that's it. We stand for the anthem and file back inside. Edgeworth goes for the stairs immediately. Dustin looks over Maggey's hurt wrist, saying something quietly. Will apologizes profusely for having to act like he did. Miss May flirts with a smiling waiter who's still carrying a tea set.

I step into the next empty elevator with Maya before I realize I'm not going to see these guys again until we're in the arena. In the Hunger Games.

But... that's okay, right? White and von Karma are the only ones I can see trying to kill someone. As long as we stay away from them, what do we have to fear? The arena? We've trained a little bit. Between the lot of us, we can pull it all together and survive.

No big deal.

I keep telling myself that as I say goodnight to Maya and try to go to sleep.


	11. Nasty Accident

Although I slept most of the night, I'm still drowsy when I'm woken by my stylist. All I'm given to wear is a loose undershirt and shorts. My arena outfit is waiting for me wherever the arena itself is.

I'm guided to a spot on the roof where a hovercraft waits. After a quick look around—no one else is up here at the moment—I grab on and start to climb. Thankfully, it's not the longest distance up, and I'm not panting that much when I make it to the interior.

An assistant pulls me to the side as my stylist comes up—well, it's nice to know _now_ that the ladder can lift itself—and steps into the main room.

"This is your tracker." He pokes at my inner forearm for a moment before readying the rather impressive needle in his hand. "The less you move, the less this will hurt."

I watch until the moment the needle punctures my skin and starts to depress.

Tracker, huh? Is there some way to escape the arena, then? I don't think the Gamemakers would be so sloppy. Still, you never know...

Maybe this is how they keep track of our vital signs, too. It wouldn't be good if they messed up on the cannon blows.

The man with the needle dabs my forearm clean of its spot of blood, and another assistant directs me to the dining area.

Although I try to occupy myself with breakfast, the ride still seems pretty long. There's a lot to think about that I try not to think about. Eventually I manage to direct my attention towards the idea of the arena itself.

While there's a chance the Training Center had some irrelevant stations, it would seem pointless to staff a lot of extra stands. The weaponry stations don't afford any clues to the arena's environment, but the survival skills booths... How many can I remember? Knot-tying, observation, fire-starting, edible plants, fishing, cleaning game—including rabbits—shelter-making...

Huh. So, some trees, and some ponds, at the least. Probably not many buildings if a lot of us are expected to make our own shelters. Aside from that... It's hard to say. Maybe I'll get a few more clues when I see my arena outfit.

A landing and some walking later, I get to find out. The outfit's actually pretty plain. A black, short-sleeved shirt with a dark green windbreaker. Black pants with a plain, black belt. Socks and dark boots that don't go far above my ankles.

So, unless they're trying to make us stand out, somewhere fairly dark and green. I'm thinking forest, probably pretty thick. But I guess I'll find out for sure soon.

There's no good spot on my outfit for my badge, so I deliberate for a minute before pinning it to the jacket, near where a lapel would be. It works.

...Where did Chief wear hers, in her Games? Hmm... I actually think the jackets were lapelled that year, so...

With a sigh, I sit at the couch by the dinner table. My stylist tries to make some small talk about the uniform, but all I get from it is that it might get cold at night. I would assume that anywhere, though.

And then I'm walking to my platform to enter the arena. The stylist wishes me luck, and up I go.

I'm launched into a vertical tunnel, not a light in sight. Closing my eyes—maybe if I'm not staring out into the sunshine right when I hit it, I won't get blinded quite as much—I take a deep breath. The backs of my eyelids start to glow red as the platform stops, but I don't open my eyes until the announcer, er, announces the Eleventh Hunger Games.

I have sixty seconds.

Shivering despite the comfortable temperature, I take a look around. Definitely forest, and mostly unbroken. We're on low ground, though, so it's hard to tell. A big cliff in the distance isn't so wooded, but I doubt anyone's going to be climbing it. Another, shorter, cliff is across from it, another behind me, and one more opposite that one, to my right. I can't make out anything else very far from me.

In front of me, of course, is the Cornucopia, overflowing with supplies. The other platforms are arranged in a large circle punctuated by some odd trees. To my right is... Didit? from 11, and then his district partner. Maya is on my left, but I can't see who's just beyond her.

All right. Maya's right here, at least. We'll grab some items, find the others, and stay out of White's and von Karma's way.

And by "the others," I mean... WP and Penny, for sure, and Edgeworth, and Gumshoe, and probably Maggey and Dustin and... Well, whoever comes with us, I guess. Huh. It's kind of hard to have a solid strategy when there are so few enemies.

At any rate, I should at least focus on what supplies we'll need. A good knife for our food—

The gong rings before I'm quite finished. Footsteps hammer the ground from all directions, but I'm barely off my starting plate when Maya makes it to my side.

"Food, Nick!" she says as we start closer to the Cornucopia. "We can't survive without food!"

"We could probably find some elsewhere—" But there's a saran-wrapped stick of salami not too far ahead. I might as well get her that much. There's no guarantee we'll find enough plants to keep us going at first, right?

"Okay, hurry!" Scooping up an empty plastic container on the way, I run alongside her to the meat. Popping open the lid mid-run, I chuck the salami inside the container and snap the lid back on.

A loud boom echoes around the Cornucopia.

W-what!?

At first, I check the immediate area, in case someone accidentally set off a flare or something, but I know very well what that sound was.

W-who would...? White? von Karma? Wait! W-who did you—?

But when I look to my right, I can see the corpse myself. Prone on the ground, blood pooling by her head, is Cindy. Just behind her is her district partner, one hand ripping a loaded canvas bag out of her grasp and the other holding up a bloodied hammer. Upon one look from me, he shrieks and runs off with the bag.

What... That was... his own district partner... I-it must have been an accident...

"Nick!" Maya tugs on my arm, and I crane my neck to see her pointing towards a set of knives in a red pouch.

Swallowing, I nod and hurry beside her to pick them up. She takes an over-the-shoulder bag and a bedroll before another cannon goes off. No, wait—another two? I-I think I heard two overlapping...?

Three people are dead. Three of us are _dead_...!

"W-we have to get out of here," I say, taking a few steps back. "Where's WP?"

Maya hurries a bit to the left, me in her wake. "I can't see him. Maybe he's just a little farther—Aah!"

Approaching us, knife in hand, is Manfred von Karma, a sick grin on his face.

"We—" I gasp—"we'll find the others later! For now...!" I give Maya a push towards the woods and start running. She whimpers and tries to keep up.

"WP!" I shout while we're still in von Karma's sights, anyway. "Edgeworth!"

By then, the trees are coming too fast for me not to concentrate on the run, so I seize Maya's arm and focus on getting away.

* * *

I'm pretty sure we've lost Manfred by the time we stop for breath. Maya tosses her cargo to the ground for a minute, and I set my things down beside me when I sit on a big lump in the grass. She lowers herself by my ankles, but I don't think it's time for another old joke. She seems to be in agreement.

I look over my shoulder. I can't hear much over a chorus of chirping things, but no one's crashing through the trees. No Manfred. No WP or Edgeworth, either.

They may have already fled. From all the broken twigs around, I'm pretty sure a person or two has already come this way. Maybe it will be one of them—

A cannon.

I do my best to keep breathing as Maya flinches.

This can't be happening. We're not supposed to be killing each other. There's no reason... N-no good reason, at least.

And even—even if they're all accidents, four of us are dead now. Which four? Cindy, and... Is Penny all right? Maggey? I can keep listing names, but... It won't help me figure anything out. Unless I'm unlucky enough to find another corpse, I won't find out until tonight at the recap.

After a minute, I push myself back to my feet. "We... should at least keep going until we find water, right? Here, I can take the heavier supplies now."

We load up and keep up the pace, heading away from the scene of the first crime.

I wonder how big the arena is this year. Those cliffs were pretty distant, but I can't be sure we'll actually be allowed that far. If there's not much space, we'll be able to meet up with the others a little more easily...

I'm watching my step when I suddenly fling my arm out in front of Maya. "Hold it!"

She jumps back. "W-what?"

Looking to the side, where the trees are a little bit more concentrated, I start, "It looked like others had stomped through here before... But doesn't it look a little... different up ahead?"

Maya leans forward, resting one hand in her elbow and the other by her cheek. "Something does seem a little odd..."

"Yeah. None of the twigs are broken anymore. Not even the ones on the ground." I look ahead again. "There aren't any footprints, either, but this grass doesn't hold them that well."

"Hmm." Maya looks up at me. "Maybe everybody just jumped across?"

"That's possible, but why?" I sidestep her to check out the trees on the right. They haven't really been touched, either.

When I glance at Maya, she's picking up a small but mossy rock by her feet. She looks over it for a second before tossing it ahead.

"Wait—" I say, but the stone is already sailing ahead.

And then it disappears.

"Whoa!" Maya's arms fly out from her sides a little. "Nick! Did you see that?"

"Yeah." I stare at the spot where the rock went, but I can't see any disturbance in the air before I hear a splash.

"Water?" She takes a step forward.

"Maya!" I grab her wrist. "There's something weird going on here—be a little more careful."

"Hey, I only took one step." She leans forward the slightest bit. "It's just a holograph-illusion kind of thing, right? With water on the other side? It didn't look like it hurt the rock going through."

"Well, we're not rocks..."

Maya sets down the container she'd had under her arm and extends her other wrist to me. "Okay, just hang on to me, and I'll lean in a teensy bit to get a peek through. How about that?"

"That's still—" I take her other wrist, and she tips forward before I can say any more. About half of her head disappears where the barrier is, but she doesn't squirm in discomfort, and she definitely still has a pulse. She lingers one more second before pulling back. Her face doesn't seem rearranged, so that's good...

Balling her fists, she looks at me, excited. "There's a stream over there. It looks pretty safe to me. I could really use a drink, too."

I cast a look behind us and exhale. I did say we needed to find water, although this is all pretty suspicious...

"Come on." She picks up the salami and knife pouch and rugs at the elbow of my jacket. "Just stay over by this side of the path, and there shouldn't be any trouble."

"Wait, why this side...?"

"Nick!"

"Okay, I'm coming!"

Although she still has a grip on my jacket, I can't help but gulp when the image of undisturbed wood swallows her up. Bracing myself, I put my hand through. I don't even feel a tingle. Maybe it's just a smoke-and-mirrors type of thing...

Maya has stopped, so I swallow and step up next to her. The illusion passes through, and suddenly there's a stream in front of me. More shaded forest—still untouched—spreads out beyond it, but what commands more of my attention is the bank a little to my left. A rim of stone juts out from the grass on the far bank of the stream, and right now it's decorated with a splash of blood.

Did someone trip? Yeah... Now that I look at it, the width of the stream is a little less than the height of the average guy. And if someone came running through, losing their footing on the muddier bank before they ever knew it was there...

I hope they're all right... But, by the look of the forest ahead, they didn't get out of the stream...

W-wait! Bobbing downstream—is that... the bag the 11 took at the bloodbath...?

"Hey." Maya, farther upstream, frowns at the blood splatter but puts on a smile when she catches my eye. "Are you getting any water or what?"

"...Yeah." I kneel by the stream and dip a hand in.


	12. Death Toll

I can't decide whether we need to be wandering around or not. On one hand, we're not going to be able to sniff out any of the others if we don't move. On the other, they might not find _us_ if everyone's moving around.

And then there's the issue of traps. I have a feeling the vanishing stream isn't the only trick the Gamemakers have pulled in this arena, and this part of the forest is so dark I'm not sure if I'll be able to catch another one before we stumble into it.

Maybe we ought to at least find somewhere a little less crowded, though. If we fill up the plastic container with water, we should be able to walk aways and set up shelter there. It's definitely still daylight, so we could always come back this way later.

Exhaling, I look downstream. We've moved away from where we started, but I can still see a hint of blood on the rocks over there. The water hasn't quite washed it away yet, although enough is gone to make me think we showed up here not long after the actual incident.

Not long after someone died...

I rub my forehead and look over to Maya. She's currently dipping her feet in the stream, the cuffs of her pants soaking since she didn't roll them up. In the sunlight—where she's sitting across the bank—these outfits get pretty hot, though, so I can't blame her.

"Maya?" I watch her look up. "Do you want to find someplace a little less dark and try to set up a camp?"

She blinks. "But it's barely even afternoon. And you're the one who said we should find a place with water!"

"Haha..." I lean back. "That's true, but the important part is that we know where the water is. We can always come back to it. And... it won't hurt getting started early. Less of a chance we'll run out of time in the middle of building, right?"

"Yeah." She grins. "Or we could do something really fancy! Make a big log cabin, with windows, and a table, and a swimming pool—with a water slide—" I honestly can't tell whether she's being serious or not—"and then a big, tall flag so everybody could find us..." She pauses, letting her hands drop to her sides. "Okay, maybe not everybody. But how can we make sure only the nice tributes see our flag? Should there be a secret password? Did we ever make a secret password?"

"I think you're going a little overboard with this..."

She pouts. "Oh, fine. We can just build a normal shelter. But first, I'm hungry. Can I have some more salami?"

"You just had some!"

"Duh! That's why I'm asking for 'more.'"

Sweating, I sigh and peel the wrap off the salami. Cutting off one slice, I hand it over. The smell tempts me to take another sliver myself, but I feel like we should save this. How long does it last, though, in this heat?

"Nick! That's barely even a piece!"

I wave the floppy salami at her. "But you admit that it is a piece."

She puffs out her cheeks. "Okay, fine."

She takes it, and I start to arrange our things. There's enough room in the bag for the salami, although I just strap the knife pouch to my belt. That leaves the plastic container empty, so I lean upstream and dip it under the surface. This is going to get pretty heavy... At least the lid will keep water from sloshing out.

Still munching on the meat, Maya scoots back and lifts her feet out of the water. She glances at her socks and shoes as I set the full container down next to me.

"Hey, Nick, come over here first, will you?"

"Uh..." Why do I have a bad feeling about this? "Sure."

With a little maneuvering, I manage to get our supplies across, and then I hop over.

"Okay, stand there," Maya says, spinning herself around without letting her heels touch the ground. She dries her feet on the bottom of my pants before turning around to put her socks on. "There! Now I won't have wet socks, and you'll be a little cooler."

"Um... thanks."

* * *

By the time we have a decent pile of debris covering our shelter, I'm pretty much ready to call it a day. My nails are caked in grit, we've gone through the whole container of water, and my back aches. Maya's still bouncing around a little bit, but she is sitting down and looking a little droopy-eyed.

"I guess..." I sigh. "...we should probably head back to the stream one more time before we try to sleep. There's still plenty of daylight to see us there, at least."

"Okay." She pushes herself up and stretches. After a moment of deliberation, she stows the bedroll inside the shelter and puts the shoulder bag in afterwards. "No reason to carry everything, right?"

One arm akimbo, I look over the shelter. As far as color, it blends in, but it's no well-disguised stick-and-box trap. I tried to get away from signs of animals, though, so we should be okay...

"Yeah. We'll just keep the container and the salami."

She claps her hands together. "Ooh, it's starting to sound like a picnic!"

I laugh. "Sure, a picnic. We'll need dinner soon, anyway."

I go ahead and throw a leafy branch over the shelter's entrance, just in case, and lead the way back.

We're about halfway there when another deep boom goes through the arena.

Both of us stop, but no one comments. Maya holds her hand over her mouth for a second, looking down, while I make sure nothing threatening is coming in on us. Our silence lasts for a moment before our feet start crunching on the grass again.

...I can't believe this is happening... How many cannons have fired now? Four? Five? Already? I... I feel faint...

We still make it to the stream, both of us rinsing our hands and getting a few drinks before we break out the salami. Our little picnic isn't so enjoyable with another cannon blast hanging over our heads, but we at least chat a little about the shelter before we get our water and walk back.

Sunset comes and goes surprisingly quickly. I see the Capitol seal in the sky before any stars come out.

Maya, shivering, scoots closer to me as the first face appears. I register the headband before anything else. Jack Hammer, District 4. He's dead. I just saw him yesterday, though, talking about his sure victory... Just yesterday...

The next face is even more familiar. Only the slightest quirk in the corners of his mouth, Dustin stares down at us.

With a cry, Maya jumps to her feet, as if getting that much closer to the sky could help her see a little better, or see someone else's face.

No... This... isn't right...

I stare numbly at the display overhead as his face disappears. Two more, right...? So, the District 11 tributes...

But the next face isn't Frank's or Cindy's.

I can't stay seated. "Objection!"

But the face doesn't flicker out of sight in response.

No. No no no. This... No...

Choking, Maya wobbles where she stands, and I shakily put an arm across her shoulders. As if that can do any good for either of us when...

Maya's crying pretty loudly by the time the two from District 11 have come and gone. I try not to make too much noise myself as the anthem fades away.

Five dead today. I guess there were that many cannon blasts... Now that I think harder about it...

Stepping back in front of our shelter, we manage to sit down without utterly collapsing. I'm not sure how.

Five of us are dead. Jack Hammer. Dustin Prince. Will Powers. Cindy Stone. Frank Sahwit.

This is unbelievable... I can't... How...

I sit slumped, running my free hand through my hair repeatedly. Maya, leaning on me heavily, peers at the ground and sobs.

Am I supposed to say anything? Am I supposed to do anything? If so, what?

Dustin and WP, and three others, dead... How do I react? Just sit here and cry? Make Maya hide in the shelter as I look for the murderers? Give eulogies? Worry? Mourn? Focus on surviving the night?

Although it takes a while before I can stop just blankly staring at the sky, the last option sticks. Once Maya quiets down enough to listen, I pull away from her.

"Go inside," I start, my voice full of cracks. "Try to get some sleep. I'll stay on watch for a while."

"H-how am I supposed to sleep?" She tries to look angry, but she's still crying. "WP was up there! W-who would have killed him? H-he was never going to hurt anyone! He..." She rubs her eyes. "A-and what about Penny, and Maggey, and..."

"I know." Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I put my arm around her again. "It's not... not right, but... We can't really do much when it's this dark. Maybe we won't be able to sleep after this, but... we should at least try to rest." I swallow. "We might figure some things out come morning."

Still teary, Maya stays silent for a while, but, when I nudge her, she nods and crawls into the shelter. I snap my jacket closed and try to pay attention to the woods around me.


	13. Another One Bites the Dust

I don't know how I'm planning to catch sight of any attackers in the dark like this. Then again, it would probably be hard for anyone to find me.

It's been a while. Maybe I should put Maya on watch... But I think she's actually asleep. Tired as I am, I doubt I'll be able to achieve the same.

I look up at the sky. From here, I can't quite see the space where I saw the faces in the sky. It's easy enough to project them in my mind's eye, though.

First, Jack Hammer. He never came off as the most selfless tribute, but he didn't seem like that bad a guy. Not enough to deserve to die, for sure. He seemed a little jealous of WP, but he put up with his, er, affectionate district partner, and he was never really spiteful to anyone. I'm a little worried about him saying he trained for this, but... That still doesn't guarantee that he was going to kill anyone. Even if he intended to, he would have had a chance to turn himself around. Maybe it's not likely that he would, but... I guess we'll never know.

Next, Dustin Prince. We didn't exactly talk a lot, but me not knowing him doesn't say much about him. He seemed nice, and his girlfriend never seemed upset at him. She trusted him to protect her, and I'm sure she didn't assume that without basis. I wonder if he did go out protecting her.

For that matter, how's Maggey doing now? There haven't been any more cannon blasts tonight, so I guess she's still out there. She can't be doing well, though, not with a broken wrist and a dead boyfriend. I hope we run into her soon. I can't imagine her running around much under these conditions, so maybe we ought to stay on the move instead. I think I could manage that...

Where was I? Ugh, I'd better not fall asleep in the middle of this...

Ah. Yeah. Will Powers. He... How is he dead? He could fend off anyone in the arena, even if he was protecting Penny. Was it another trap? One like the stream, or maybe something else... That—that must be it. Who would have tried to murder him, anyway? The only one of us he didn't win over was Manfred, and he seems a little too strategic to go after someone so much bigger and more threatening than him before the arena can wear him down. It... It had to have been a trap. I-I hope it wasn't too bad...

Penny would have seen it, too. I hope she's not hurt. Maybe we can also find her tomorrow...

I stare at the stars for another moment before I recall the next name. Cindy... Stone. I didn't interact with her much, but she seemed nice enough. Had a boyfriend to go back to. And then she was killed by her own district partner. It's... pretty hard to believe that he could have struck her lethally with a hammer by accident. He should have at least been shocked enough not to immediately rip her bag out of her hands.

As much as I hate to say it... It really looks like Frank was a murderer—only to die himself soon after. I'm positive he's the one that slipped on the rocks—his stolen bag was floating downstream, and he was close enough to our starting plates to take off in the same direction we would. But... what am I supposed to say about him? He deserved it? Maybe more than, say, WP did, but... Death is one harsh punishment. On a basic level, a life for a life does seem fair, but... it's never quite that simple. You have to consider motive, and... circumstances, and... It's... It's hard to say... I...

I'm staying up too late... I should probably switch shifts now...

I consider not bothering to wake up Maya at all, but there's only one bedroll, and she doesn't have to fight any attackers herself, as long as she comes to get me.

Head pounding, I take a drink of water before I go in to rouse her.

* * *

"Nick! If you don't wake up, I'm eating the rest of the salami without you!"

"All right, I'm coming..."

I make myself roll over, twigs poking my shoulder, but it doesn't make me want to get up any more. I'm not sure that I really got any sleep, but... It's not like I'm going to get any if I lie here, right?

More importantly, there are things to do today. Find Penny, and Maggey, and hopefully some of the others.

"Nick!" Maya sticks her head inside the shelter.

"I'm fine, I'm coming, just... give me a minute." With a yawn, I slowly sit up, making sure not to bump my head on the angled roof. I sit there slumped for a minute, combing my hair back with my fingers, before I finally haul myself outside.

The sunlight helps wake me a little, although I still have some trouble guiding my share of the salami to my mouth. By the time we finish our breakfast, the water container is empty. No problem. We can visit the stream again before we head out searching.

We load up—Maya offers to carry the water today, while I take the bag and bedroll—stop at the stream, and try to figure out which way to go. The trees upstream are a little too thick, but it's not too bad downstream. It's probably better for us to make a loop around than keep going farther from the starting plates. The arena may not be circular, but there's usually at least some room on each side. I don't know where exactly Penny or Maggey started, but they're more likely to be in the general direction of their starting plates than ours.

Yeah? Does that sound right?

Stifling another yawn, I take one more drink from the stream before we follow it down. The blood splatter is gone. It doesn't look like anyone else has fallen here, so that's good. On that note, it doesn't look like anyone else has walked this way yet. We could still be going in the right direction, though...

With that one stick of salami gone, Maya's not so talkative today. That's all right. I don't think either of us is really in the mood to chatter after last night.

* * *

It's not quite noon when a cannon blows. I exchange a glance with Maya, but she just sighs and frowns at the ground. I guess there's not really anything to say. Someone else is dead. We won't know who until tonight. Nothing we can do about it until then. It's all terrible. The end.

Maya suddenly sits down. Why not? We've been walking for a while.

I take a seat next to her, and we dig into the water supply a little.

Looking down, she grips her knees. "Who do you think it was?"

I shake my head. "I have no idea."

She nods the tiniest bit, still staring at the ground. She's kind of wobbly, even sitting, but I guess she isn't used to getting up so early.

"Hey." I get her attention. "Do you need to take a power nap or anything? We can stay here for a little while. It won't hurt."

She's silent, but eventually she nods, lying down.

I pat her on the shoulder. "I'll wake you when we need to go. Just sleep as well as you can."

With a thankful mumble, she shuts her eyes.

Forcing down a yawn myself, I look around. More trees, of the same kinds I've been seeing. A few are pine, so we'll at least be able to eat some of the seeds or bark if we have to. Some animals could come by, too, although I'd have to knife them pretty well if I intend to catch any for food.

Wait... wasn't there something in the bag I could use?

Quietly, so I don't disturb Maya, I shuffle the shoulder bag around and open it up. The first thing I can see is my badge—since I keep having to take off the jacket, I figured my district token might be a little safer pinned to the strap here. It's still nice and shiny.

Next is a newspaper clipping. It's about Capitol fashion. I think it would make good tinder.

A small pill bottle. It's labeled "Enzyme Tablets."

A zip-shut plastic bag. It's empty.

A bottle of superglue. It doesn't have any instructions for use.

A few lengths of wire. Each is braided, to support more weight. There—I bet I could make something worthwhile out of those.

So, do I want to set up some snares in the area? I don't think I'm supposed to do that very close to the trail. I wouldn't want to leave Maya alone, either. Maybe I'll set some up when she's done with her nap, and then we'll keep going.

We are going to be coming back this way, right? We found water, and we've set up a shelter—not to mention there aren't many traps around that area. I don't know what kind of condition the others will be in—although they can't be that bad off if we're doing okay—so we may have to leave our camp behind for a while. Hopefully we can all get back to it, though. I worked pretty hard on that shelter, and it stayed pretty warm inside.

Then again, I might have to make it bigger—

A cannon.

I quickly check on Maya, but her chest is rising and falling just fine.

So, someone else. That doesn't make things much better, though. People are still dying out here...

I... I'll have to wait and see tonight who's gone. For now, I'll... keep an eye out for food.


	14. Of Some Assistance

By the end of the day, one more tribute has died, and none have crossed paths with us.

We took too long to turn back. It's definitely going to be dark before we make it to our camp. We could try to set up another around here; I brought the bedroll in case something like this happened. It's getting awfully hard to see, though. I don't know if we'd be able to put together much.

"Maya, what do you think we should do?" I glance at the orange edge of the sky.

"As far as shelter?" Still walking alongside me, she slips into her pondering pose. "Well, we're not getting anywhere like this. We either need to run back to camp or stop and set up here."

Huh... I don't know about running... That can get you into trouble around here.

"I guess we can stop and find a place to set up."

Maya nods and comes to a stop. Slipping my jacket on, I scrutinize the ground for prints. They don't stay distinct enough to recognize around here, but I can at least tell some sort of animal's been by. We don't want to set up there, then...

We've avoided quite a few pairs of prints, as well as as a large net snare, by the time we find somewhere suitable. There's not much daylight left, and we're not that full of energy, so our shelter doesn't turn out so great. It'll do for one night, though.

The sound of the anthem snatches my attention, and Maya and I can both see the Capitol seal from here. Even with frogs and bugs chirping from all directions, the music is easily audible as the seal fades into the first face of the night.

Polly Jenkins, District 9. Although she's smiling in her picture, she still manages to look terrified. She's followed shortly by Yanni Yogi, his pink hat looking purplish in the projection.

Last is Penny Nichols, District 10.

It sounds like neither of us can comprehend this enough to react at first. Three more dead. One of them Penny. Penny!

Who—who would kill these people? There are eight dead; they can't all be from traps. But who would have killed Penny? Who would have killed the terrified but nice girl from 9? Who would have killed her defenseless, unbalanced district partner? Who would have killed WP? Who would have...!

I have to get to the bottom of this! There has to be some way to find out what happened! I can't just... I can't just sit here and cry when all of these innocent people, all of my _friends_, no less, are dying! There has to be something I can do. There has to be some way to figure out who's responsible, to bring them to justice...!

I know this is the Hunger Games, but there has to be something, some way to at least fix a little of this... There's no way to bring them back, but I have to do something for them beyond mourning. I'm in here, too. I can do _something_ just because of that. Exactly what, or how, I... I don't know, but...

Maya and I spend some time sitting here in distressed shock before we realize we have to get some sleep. After some debate, she convinces me to rest first this time.

To my surprise, I fall asleep.

* * *

Another cannon blasts during my night watch. I try not to think about it. I still can't help but wonder who's gone now, and if I'll ever find out how it happened.

Maybe I can find some of the crime scenes as I explore the arena. There would at least be clues... I doubt it would be enough, though... I doubt almost anything would be enough...

* * *

I wake Maya a bit after dawn. We eat some pine nuts before heading out.

I guess we're mainly looking for Maggey now. I'd be glad to see anyone, though.

We're stopping by the stream for water when a bird suddenly hops out of its tree and lands at the bank across from us. It quietly takes a drink before I realize I should probably try throwing a knife. I try not to make any sudden moves as I go for the pouch on my waist. Am I supposed to throw at the neck, or wing, or...

I've just managed to balance the handle when the bird looks up at us, opens its beak—

—and lets out the most terrified, high-pitched, _human_ scream I can imagine.

Thankfully, I drop the knife onto the ground instead of into the water.

Maya jerks back, too, although she seems a little less startled than I would expect her to be. "That—" she blinks—"sounded like Polly!"

"What?" I brush my hand across the ground until my fingers hit the knife. "Are you saying she was reincarnated into a bird?"

"No!" She puffs out her cheeks. "That's a jabberjay, Nick! Can't you tell by the feathers?"

"Um..." Excuse me for not going to bird school. "Of course I recognize it. I was just kidding."

I watch the jabberjay flap back to its pervious perch, where it continues to watch us. It pauses before its chest swells with air again.

"I thought you were the one tribute I could trust!" it cries, definitely in Polly's voice. "But you killed her! You're just like the rest of them! I should have known better—"

"Polly!" A male voice, from the same bird, isn't readily recognizable. "I never touched her! Put that down—"

"So you can kill me, too? I don't think so! You won't get the chance to kill me." A high-pitched laugh. "No one will."

"_Polly!_"

With that, the jabberjay shuts its mouth and flies away.

Maya and I can't do much but stare at each other for a minute.

...Well. For one, I won't be trying to eat any more jabberjays.

Maya, distressed, loosely covers her mouth with her fingers. "You don't think Polly...?"

I don't finish her sentence out loud. But if she was holding something dangerous, and deciding no one else could kill her, probably on the day of her death...

"Something else is bothering me." I frown at my reflection in the water. "Who was she talking to?"

"It was Yanni, wasn't it?"

I turn to face Maya. "I would think so, the way she said she trusted him, but... that wasn't his voice. It was too sharp, and focused, and..." I shake my head. "I don't know. It seems impossible that it wasn't him... But impossible that it was."

Maya looks down, and I run through the conversation in my head.

"...Who was 'her'?"

Maya echoes the last word as she turns to me.

"Polly claimed that the other tribute killed 'her'..."

"You don't—" she covers her mouth—"think it was Penny, do you?"

I sit up stiffly. "Penny... Well—" I swallow—"it would have had to have been a female who died, right? Sure Polly wouldn't react so... extremely to something that wasn't a sure death."

"Yeah, so... Who all is gone? P-Penny... and the girl at the bloodbath, and Polly herself. And you said there was another cannon this morning?"

"Yeah, but that couldn't be the person in question if Polly was already... gone." Trying to focus on the issue at hand and not its implications, I put a hand to my chin. "It wouldn't be Polly, so that leaves Cindy and Penny. Polly wouldn't have accused him of killing Cindy unless she saw him standing by her body at the bloodbath—but then Polly would have reacted right then, and not a day later... right?"

Maya looks down. "That makes sense..."

"So... Yeah. It would have had to have been Penny." I swallow.

"Do you..." She drags her hand across the bank. "Do you think he did kill Penny?"

"He said he didn't." I lean forward, exhaling. "But that's not really proof. I'd have to see more. Or... hear more."

I look up at the branch where the jabberjay had been. I wonder if he's the only one here...? Should I have captured him?

But then he wouldn't hear anything else from the rest of the arena. If we ran into each other once, it could happen again.

And maybe... he can tell me more. A lot more. Maybe even everything I need to know. That's a tall order, but... I finally found a way to figure out what's been happening in this arena. I'm not going to give up on it so soon.

"Maya!" I get up. "We've sat here long enough. I think it's time to go search for the others."

* * *

We've stopped to cook and eat some eggs when the ground starts to rumble.

Maya is the first to notice. Arms rising from her sides as her shoulders jump up, she looks around wide-eyed. "What's that?"

"Huh?" I feel the vibration but can't tell if it's coming from any direction in particular. Pushing myself to my feet, I look around. We're in a fairly open area at the moment, with lower-branched trees on both sides and a bit of a clearing down the middle. No one's coming from behind us, but another look ahead shows me something.

Maya gets up, too, and follows my gaze.

Although the tremors seem to be coming from over the near hill, all I can see at the moment is a cloud of dirt. There's hardly any wind, though, and I'm still not sure what to make of it when Dee Vasquez tops the hill, pelting down towards us.

Then the four slavering, black mutts crest the hill, and I'm not so confused anymore. Dog-like, they're nearly Maya's height and appropriately wide and long. And they're catching up to Dee pretty quickly. Although her expression is still pretty neutral, her face is awfully pale for someone running that hard.

What do I do? They'll tear her apart, but it's not like I can charge them—

At one of the lower branches, she suddenly flings her arms up and spins up into the tree, whether from her momentum or her own effort I'm not sure. The mutts are past her before they even have a chance to slow, but then they don't. It takes me a second to realize they're looking at us as they continue to charge.

Maya screams and drags me after her before I've consciously decided to run. But once I'm going, I'm going.

Do I even have enough fuel in me to run for long enough? We're going downhill, but a handful of pine nuts and a small egg isn't exactly what I'd choose to eat before running a big race.

I cast a look back. The mutts' growling is audible already, and they've come a lot closer than they should have.

I think to yell to Maya that we need to go faster, but I don't have the breath. I think she realizes it, anyway. Cold with adrenaline, I keep going, but the thumping of paws only gets louder. This is looking bad, this is looking—

Really bad.

The trees ahead are a lot thicker. There's no way we're going to be able to run through them. There aren't any good trails to the side, either, but it's better than the dead end.

Seizing Maya's elbow, I force her to turn with me. I nearly trip over a thick root immediately, but I manage to keep going. I have to let go of her to keep from crashing into a tree, but the lack of space doesn't seem to be a problem for the mutts. It's like they're meant to fit in this part of the woods.

I barely see Maya ramming into a branch in time to stop myself. Shoes slipping on rotting wood, I do my best to turn around and help her up. Coughing and gasping for breath, she takes my hand, and I pull her up as quickly as I can.

One look back, and I know it's already too late. The mutts are close enough to mist us with their slobber as they pant, and, in one leap, they'll be on us.

I-I can't let this...!

Maya screams, much harder than it seems she should be able to.

But then someone else yells, and it sure isn't me.

The mutts suddenly crash into each other, howling as the lot of them are shoved hard against a tree. Their attacker pulls back for a second, panting, but snaps his baton at the first mutt to recover. He repeats this for the others until they all lay bruised and dazed enough for him to back up towards us.

"H-hey, you okay, pal?"


	15. Teamwork

"Sorry I was a little late with my entrance." Gumshoe slumps sheepishly. "I don't get many chances to practice that sorta thing."

Although we've taken care of the mutts and moved far out of the way regardless, Maya's still shaking a little. "Gumshoe... Thank you thank you thank you!" She sniffles. "I was really scared..."

Finally catching my breath, I nod at him. "Yeah. It was looking pretty grim until you stepped in. Thanks, a lot."

"Huh?" Gumshoe looks to the side. "Don't mention it, pal."

I cast one last look in the mutts' direction. They still haven't gotten up, so I'm pretty sure we're done with them. Dee's disappeared, but she never seemed that fond of us. I'm sure she'll be fine on her own. As long as she doesn't use us as mutt bait again...

"Listen," starts the 3, taking a step back, "I kind of left Mr. Edgeworth in the dust rushing over here. I should make sure he's still back there."

"Edgeworth?" I look up at Gumshoe. "You found Edgeworth?"

"Yeah, pal. Ran into him yesterday afternoon. We've been looking out for each other ever since." He frowns. "He hasn't been doing that well. He said he tripped some poison mist kind of trap that morning, and he's still a little out of it."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Maya jumps up. "Let's go check on him!"

I nod, and Gumshoe seems happy enough to lead us through the trees for a while. He keeps coming to stops and looking around, and I start to wonder if he's lost. That wouldn't surprise me. But, I don't have any better ideas of where Edgeworth is, so there's no point in worrying about it.

I hope we get to him soon, though. Poisonous spray? Even if he's made it this long after stepping into it, that doesn't mean he's out of trouble.

I'm a little surprised he got caught in a trap in the first place. I guess nobody's perfect.

"Aha!"

"Eek!" Maya jumps back as Gumshoe whips around panting.

"See that, pal?" He gestures to a dim, red light blinking in one of the trees. "Motion detector. We'd better walk the long way around."

"Okay, thanks." I thought it was just a camera. Better be careful.

...It's _not_ just a camera, right?

I take Gumshoe at his word for now and follow him around the suspicious tree.

"H-hey! Mr. Edgeworth!"

No sooner have we cleared the blinking tree than a figure appears among the trunks. Sitting slumped against one of the trees is Edgeworth, his head back and his eyes barely open.

Just like that, the three of us are racing for him. By the time we get close, I can tell he's watching us, although he still looks drowsy at best.

"Hey," I start, kneeling down next to him, "Edgeworth?"

He grunts, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Wright."

"How are you feeling?" Gumshoe sits by his other side.

"Out of it." His head lolls a little. "It's been worse, though. It should pass soon." Gritting his teeth, he turns his face towards the sky again.

I turn to Gumshoe. "So the effects just sort of fade in and out?"

He sighs. "That's what it looks like, pal. He says it's been getting better overall, but... this still happens." He looks over his shoulder, probably for any threats. I guess he's been the one on watch most of the time. He seems to have done a pretty good job so far. Edgeworth doesn't look that scratched up overall—his cravat is still entirely intact, although a little dirty—and they have a few supply bags between the two of them.

We should probably sort through all of our things together. We seem to have lost our nice container, but I'm sure we still have a few things to contribute to the group. Hopefully they do, too.

But first things first. Get some rest, Edgeworth. I'm sure you'll feel better in a little while.

* * *

While he doesn't seem completely convinced that we met up a little earlier, Edgeworth seems as alert as usual now.

"I assume you've been well?" Standing now, he lets his arms rest at his sides.

"Relatively speaking," I reply. "Although we certainly wouldn't be if Gumshoe hadn't saved us from those mutts."

Edgeworth turns toward the tribute mention. "So you at least left me alone, defenseless and half-conscious, for a good reason."

Gumshoe scratches the back of his head and slumps. "Sorry about that."

"Don't yell at him!" Maya thrusts her arms down. "He saved our lives!"

Edgeworth barely reacts. "I told him he had good reason. Which is something I really couldn't say for him most of the time."

"_Whippersnapper!_"

The sudden shriek makes me jump, and we all look around for a second before Edgeworth points out the jabberjay.

"I know it was you—you and your 11! You're the only one who could have killed my Jack!"

"N-no! WP would never—"

"I saw him going towards Jack! I know he did it!"

"No, Ms. Oldbag, please listen. I—" In the middle of Will's line, the jabberjay stops to clean its wing. It doesn't start back up again when it's finished.

Our group looks at each other for a moment, waiting for any more, before it gets too hard to stay silent.

"Ms. Oldbag, huh?" I scratch my chin.

"Conversing with Nichols and Powers, it seems." Edgeworth folds his arms, watching the jabberjay above us. "Accusing the latter of the murder of Jack Hammer, within reason."

"W-what?" I frown at him. "What do you mean, within reason? WP wouldn't have killed him! You've met the guy, haven't you?"

"Yes..." Edgeworth looks off to the side. "But surely you realize, Wright, that kindness doesn't render a person incapable of murder. We have no reason to believe Oldbag was lying about seeing him approach Hammer, either. And it would have been difficult for anyone else to take down such a strong tribute."

Ugh...! Edgeworth, you can't be serious!

But I have no means to convince him otherwise right now. If he knew WP and still thinks he could have done this, it would take solid evidence to sway him otherwise. And that I don't have.

"So, uh," Gumshoe starts suddenly, "those jabberjays, huh? Pretty cool creatures. You seen any before, pal?"

I have to take a second to catch up to the conversation. "Um... Here, or back home?"

"Nick!" Maya looks at me. "Maybe they heard the one that recorded Polly." She turns towards the others, but Gumshoe's already frowning in confusion.

"No, pal, that's the first we've heard about that. What happened with Polly?"

"Well..." I try to think of the actual conversation instead of what I made of it. "She was screaming, and arguing with a man. She said... 'I thought you were the one tribute I could trust. But you killed her.'" I glance at Maya to see if I got that right.

She nods. "And then she said she should have known better, and the other tribute yelled at her to put something down."

"And he claimed that he never touched 'her,'" I add. "Then Polly objected to putting down whatever it was she had. 'So you can kill me, too? I don't think so. You won't get the chance to kill me. No one will.'"

Maya looks down. "Then the other tribute yelled her name. That's all we heard."

I nod, and I see Edgeworth mulling it over.

"The other tribute would have been Yogi," he starts, tapping a finger against his arm. "Jenkins had avoided every tribute but him in the Training Center."

"Objection!" I straighten up. "The voice we heard was clearly not Yanni Yogi's. We would have been able to recognize it after spending time in the same building as him, and hearing his interview, wouldn't we? But this voice was much too lucid to be his."

"Objection!" Edgeworth points at me. "It sounds as though he was trying to prevent his lover from committing suicide. Wouldn't he have every right to sound a bit more focused at the time?"

"Objection!" I slam my hands on a tree branch in front of me, which happens to be at just the right level for such a thing. ...And now I have to think of something to say.

"He had been reaped for the Hunger Games since the first moment we heard him. I'm sure you realize what a serious competition this is. He would have had every opportunity to be serious throughout the week, whether out of concern for his own life or his girlfriend's! If he was capable of being so clear-minded, he would have been for at least an observable moment in the last week!"

Edgeworth finally pauses at that, and I let my arms slide off the branch.

"Gumshoe." Exhaling, he folds his arms again. "Do you have anything you'd like to add?"

Why would he ask Gumshoe...?

The 3 snarls. "Yeah, pal! That Yanni Yogi always knew what was going on! The insanity was all an act!"

"W-what!?" Starting, I lean back. "Wait, how do you know this?"

Gumshoe pauses, turning to the side for a second. "I, uh, ran into him yesterday." Whipping back around to face us, he pants. "And he was totally different, pal! Standing up straight, talking coherently... He even tried to attack Mr. Edgeworth!"

"That's correct. I wasn't very aware at the time, but I can corroborate that Gumshoe indeed saw Yogi during the course of the Games, so his testimony should be sound." Edgeworth shrugs, his palms up. "Ergo, the voice you heard was certainly that of Yanni Yogi. That's all, Gumshoe. Thank you."

"Oh." I guess that does make sense... So Yanni was feigning his weakness the whole time? Was Polly in on it, too?

"Hold it!" I point at Gumshoe. "Was Yanni on his own when you saw him yesterday?"

He frowns. "Yeah."

"Since Polly died that day, she was probably already gone, then..." I rub my chin. "Although it's still impossible to say for sure whether she only left or... killed herself." I swallow. "And we still don't know whether or not she was right to blame him for Penny's death."

Edgeworth lets his arms drop, not quite looking me in the eye. "Penny?"

"Yeah..." Sighing, I look at the ground. "Her face was in the sky last night, and she's the only one Yanni could have killed just before Polly reacted as she did."

"Ah." Edgeworth's eyes seem sadder than usual. "Well, I can tell you that he didn't kill Penny."

Jolted, I snap my gaze back to him. "How?"

"Because..." Edgeworth sighs before scowling right at me.

"...I did."


	16. Unsolved

"E-Edgeworth! What are you talking about?"

Although my voice breaks the silence, we go right back to staring at each other wordlessly.

"I told you," he says, letting out a breath. "I killed Penny Nichols."

There's no way. Not...

_"Then you shouldn't have to apologize!"_

Miles...

"_Everyone's been shouting you did it, but no one has any proof!"_

No. There's no way.

I put my palms down on the branch. "Okay, Edgeworth. I think you owe us an explanation of what happened—what you think happened. Give us your full account."

He looks at us sideways. "...I suppose you have a point. Fine. I'll explain.

"It was a bit before noon. I was on the move, trying to get together enough edible plants for a decent lunch. I noticed some signs of other people nearby, but I wasn't sufficiently cautious; Yogi was rounding a corner when he bowled straight into me. We fell and triggered a trap—the poisonous spray."

He looks to the side. "The actual memory becomes hazy there; the next thing I knew, I had stumbled into a clearer area. I noticed that my only knife—a snap-off utility blade—was missing, but I wasn't sure what to make of it until last night."

He turns back towards us. "I had a nightmare, and woke up in a fearful sweat. It was a dream... of the murder.

"After the mist hit, neither of us was in good condition, physically or mentally. I managed to get to my feet, but I was leaning so heavily against the tree I had no hope of fleeing. Yogi had been hit harder; he could barely breathe."

He grits his teeth. "That's when Nichols stumbled upon us. She was only walking, quite slowly in fact, but she still nearly tripped on Yogi. He... went crazy. Pulled himself up by tugging on her jacket, and hit her. He didn't look like he had any intention of leaving her alone, either."

Looking down, he continues, "I don't know why I did what I did. I wanted him to leave her alone... In a daze, I took out my utility knife, extended the blade, and threw it at him. I was sliding back to the ground, nearly unconscious, before I could see where it hit. It seemed like some time before I heard her scream... It was a terrible scream..."

Falling silent, he stares at the ground for some time before slowly lifting his head again.

Maya is the first to speak. "But... that was only a dream, wasn't it?"

Edgeworth grimaces, turning to the side. "I hoped, but... Nichols is dead. The murder weapon is no longer in my possession." He glowers at us. "I see no reason to doubt what I remembered last night."

We all go voiceless for a moment as I go through the account in my head. He didn't have any idea what happened when he first came to, but he didn't remember us finding him earlier, either. No holes in that part. But there have to be some somewhere... Miles couldn't kill Penny...

After another minute, I catch Edgeworth's eye. "What about Polly?"

"Polly...?" His look softens, although he still seems far from content.

"Yes." I rest my hands on the branch. "If we're so set on the fact that she only trusted Yanni—and that she killed herself after that trust was broken—where was she during all of this? What was Yanni doing alone when he ran into you?"

He barely pauses. "He was running, Wright. Whether it was from a hostile tribute, the aftermath of another trap, or mutts, he could have easily be separated from her in the chase. She merely managed to find him later, likely still near Nichols' body if she accused him of murdering her. I must have managed to stumble away by then."

"But..." There has to be something else. "You have great aim. Would you have really missed Yanni altogether?"

"You're grasping." He crosses his arms. "I was in a daze the entire time. Can you really be so faithful in my throwing ability in that condition?"

"Ugh... N-no..." I clench a fist. "But... But I know you're innocent, Edgeworth. Maybe I can't prove it right now, but I will."

"Yeah, pal." Gumshoe looks serious for once. "You didn't kill her. We'll figure out what really happened—leave it to us."

Maya nods, hands clenched by her chin. "Don't worry, Edgeworth. We believe you, but we believe _in_ you more!"

Edgeworth looks around the group, his eyebrows raised. He doesn't say a word.

* * *

We do our share of walking for the rest of the day, but we don't find anyone. A cannon blasts while we're setting up shelter, and we all cringe to an extent, but no one comments on it.

By the time we have a semicircular lean-to type of shelter set up, the sun is down and the anthem is playing. We all get into a good viewing position and wait for the seal to flicker away.

Freja Charge, District 2. Winston Payne, District 8. That's all for today.

...Two more people are dead, and all I can say is, "that's all"? But, what else can I do? Unless I find the scene of the murder or run into the right bird, there's no way to figure out what happened. And neither of those is likely to happen tonight.

"So," says Gumshoe, shrugging on the overcoat he got near the Cornucopia, "who takes first watch?"

Edgeworth folds his arms. "I'm sure I could manage a short watch, although I can't promise I'll be able to successfully rouse the next person when the poison takes me again."

"Well, yeah. That's why I didn't let you try to take one last night, pal." He exhales, looking up at the moon. "I guess I could go first if I need to."

"Wait a second." I look over him as I close up my jacket. "You mean you didn't sleep at all last night?"

"Huh? Well, no."

Maya makes an exclamation. "G-get to sleep, then! Nick and I will take all the watches."

I nod. "In case you forgot, you saved our lives today. The least we could do is let you get a full night's sleep."

"Oh." He rubs the back of his neck. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, we're sure!" Maya puffs our her cheeks.

"All right." He grins. "Thanks, pal."

I smile. "Don't mention it."

Edgeworth has already crawled into the shelter when a voice comes through the trees.

"Okay, little birdie!" Miss May? "How about you fly east this time? Tell me if you hear anything interesting!"

I look around, but I don't see her in the flesh. If she were close enough to hear, she would have noticed us here, right? It must have been a jabberjay.

Wait...

Maya, on her feet, stops searching and looks at me. "_She's_ been sending out all of the jabberjays?"

"Huh?" I lean back. "Surely she's not actually controlling them?" They _are_ all male, but... they're still birds.

Gumshoe watches the branches ahead. "She might just have one or two, pal. Still, we have to be careful!" He pants. "She—anyone—could hear all the plans we say out loud."

"Ah! I guess that's true." I was so focused on hearing clues, I forgot that the recordings go both ways...

Gumshoe laughs pretty heartily on this. "I had to point that out to you, huh, Mr. Head-in-the-Fluffy-Pink-Clouds?"

"Head-in-the... Huh?"

"Never mind." He steps back toward the shelter. "Well, good night, pal. Thanks again for taking watch."

"Good night, Gumshoe."

* * *

Come morning, we pack up our things and walk to the pond we passed earlier. Gumshoe and Edgeworth fill their water bottles and add a little of their iodine tincture—they grabbed three bottles at the start of the Games, so Maya and I share one.

"Are we planning to keep moving today?" Edgeworth asks between sips.

My eyebrows rise. "I was definitely planning to. There are still a lot of our friends out there. Why, are you not feeling up to walking?"

"No, I could handle it." He crosses his legs. "But you do realize the more we move, the more likely we are to run into traps? I think it would be wiser to wait until we actually have an idea of where we're going before we charge off into the unknown."

I frown. "But how would we know? From more jabberjay reports? The best we have is that Miss May is probably to the west—" if she does, in fact, have some control over the jabberjays—"and there really aren't enough landmarks for someone to state an exact location."

Edgeworth folds his arms. "Yes, but you are aware that the Gamemakers can trigger their own traps, correct? We'll end up having to move when they deem it necessary, and then we will be guaranteed to be pushed towards other tributes. In the meantime, we can ensure or at least contribute to our own safety by remaining in one safe location."

I pause, and Gumshoe jumps in before I can make another argument.

"'When they deem it necessary'? That doesn't sound soon enough to me, pal! Maggey's still out there with no one to protect her!" He settles down a little. "And, uh, so are a lot of the rest, right?"

"That's right!" Maya gets to her feet. "It might be dangerous, but we've got to keep moving!"

I stand as well, getting our things together. "Yeah, Edgeworth." I grin. "Don't worry—we'll spot all of the traps for you."

Edgeworth grumbles but gets up after he refills his water bottle.


	17. A Witness's Account

"You don't think Wendy killed him, do you?"

Edgeworth taps his finger against his arm. "She would seem to have a motive, at least, although it is hard to believe that she could take down Powers."

I nod, adjusting the strap over my shoulder. Wendy's pretty small, from what I can remember. I don't think she "trained" like her district partner.

"She's awfully scary when she's angry, though," Maya says, arms half-crossed. "And... WP sounded like he was trying to just talk to her..." She looks down.

"She couldn't have caught him unaware if he was looking directly at her, though." Edgeworth peers at a tree trunk for a moment before deciding it's no threat to us.

"Yeah, it's... impossible to say who killed him right now." Swallowing, I rest a hand on her shoulder. "We can worry about it later, when we have more to go on."

Maya nods, hardly cheered up by the notion, but I can't say I'm surprised.

* * *

We hear Wendy muttering angrily to herself for a while before we realize she's actually here.

We're in a thicker, darker part of the forest, so we end up fairly close before we see her. Standing up, she pants about as hard as Gumshoe as she snarls at nothing in particular. She's definitely a little scratched-up, leaves straggled throughout her pulled-back puff of hair, but she doesn't look damaged otherwise.

She turns on us before we can even think of backing away.

"What do you want?" she snaps. I'm not even sure she's identified us yet.

I would run, but we're still out of her range—as far as I can tell, she's unarmed apart from her tightly-fisted hands.

"N-nothing," I start, holding up my hands. "We were just—" I swallow as she stomps closer to us—"passing through?"

She slowly looks across our faces. "I'll," she says, glaring at Maya first, "believe that when I—" now she's moved on to me—"see you... passing..."

Her roiling fury dies down instantly when she starts staring at Edgeworth. He holds her gaze for a moment before taking a half-step back.

"Is... something the matter, Ms. Oldbag?" I spy the barest crack in his demeanor as he visibly fights back distaste.

"Hmm?" Toes pointed in, she waves a hand at him. "My, aren't you a handsome fellow! I'm afraid I'm a bit flustered!"

"Ngh!" Edgeworth cringes, and it's all I can do to not burst out laughing. I still can't keep myself from snorting quietly a few times. Found yourself a keeper, did you, Edgeworth?

"Here, here," she starts, barely giving Gumshoe a glance—and not a hostile one, either—"no need to be standing here in the dark. Let's find somewhere nicer."

Maya looks at me sideways. "Do you think she means, 'somewhere more romantic'?" she whispers.

"Stop it," I get out before cracking up.

"Wright!" Edgeworth speaks through clenched teeth. "Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the group?"

I grin. "No, sir."

The trees ahead start to thin when Maya glances at Edgeworth and looks back at me.

"So was he once the big heartbreaker of District 5?"

I laugh quietly. "Well, the last time he was in District 5, he was nine years old, so... no. I'm sure he had a similar title in 6, though."

Wendy decides we've gone far enough, and she comes to a stop, still admiring Edgeworth's face. Even if he weren't so stoic, he would have a bit of a problem admiring hers in return.

He clears his throat. "Was there a particular matter you wanted to discuss?"

"Oh, no, dear." Still a little shy-looking, she waves her hand at him again.

Edgeworth shivers, and I'm just about ready to start laughing again when there's a shout to our right.

Maya gasps. "WP!"

She's run two steps that way before I jump and reach after her. "Hold it! Maya! It's not him. He's..."

She comes to a stop before I can touch her. Sniffling, she mumbles his name again. I sigh, catching up to her as I glimpse the jabberjay. Its beak has closed, but it opens again. It sounds like there's some shouting in the background, but I can only hear Will's voice clearly.

"I-I'm fine. It's just my ankle."

"Oh, no..." Penny. "H-here, I can help you up."

"Tha—A-augh!"

"WP!"

The jabberjay falls silent again, hopping to another tree. After a moment, it's clear that that's all we're going to get this time.

Maya is still sniffling, while the others watch us, Wendy no longer in a smiling daze.

"Powers..." Oldbag mutters.

I slowly turn towards her. "Yeah. You remember him?"

"Of course I do!" And now she's angry again. "Who could forget the biggest tribute of the bunch? Maybe some of you don't pay any attention to the competition, but it's a foolish way to handle this, and no one with a lick of sense would go into the Hunger Games without knowing what they're up against, but then again I guess most people these days don't have a lick of sense..."

"Um... Nick?" Maya steps next to me. "Is she okay?"

"Depends on what your definition of 'okay' is..."

"Hey! Listen when you're being talked to!" She snorts like a bull. "Whippersnappers!"

"Excuse me," Edgeworth says, reclaiming her attention—brave man—"but do you mind if we return to Mr. Powers?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes." She relaxes. "What are we saying about him?"

Edgeworth sighs, so I decide to cut him a break and continue the questioning myself.

"So you were familiar with him." One arm akimbo, I try to watch her with a straight face. "But only because he was the competition?"

"He was the biggest competition, sonny!" she growls. "The only one who could have killed poor Hammer, too!"

I inhale. Now we're getting somewhere. "How are you so sure?"

"Jack was stronger than anyone else here, except for him—but he's dead! And if you think some frail little tribute took him out, you're dead wrong!" She smirks a little. "Even more, I caught Powers going towards him at the bloodbath, not long before his cannon blew."

"Say..." I rub my chin. "It sounded like Powers hurt his ankle. Was he limping when you saw him approach Mr. Hammer?"

She squints at me. "Yes. But the girl wasn't helping him."

"Hold it!" I point at her. "So no one but Will was strong enough to win against Jack... But Will was injured when you saw him going towards Hammer! Strong as Powers was, he had a clear disadvantage in this supposed fight. So how does that make him any different than the other tributes in the area?"

"Eh!?" She splutters. "Well, I never—!"

"Never thought of that?" I try not to grin at her. "Tell me, Wendy: is there any real reason to conclude that a wounded Will Powers was the only tribute able to best Jack Hammer in a fight?"

She snarls for a minute before going off on a tangent about all the bad things that can come from calling people liars. Obviously she doesn't have a real argument to stand on.

So, that's that. But there's one more thing...

"Ms. Oldbag." I watch her seriously until she calms down. "Was the last time you saw WP when he was limping towards Jack during the 'bloodbath,' as you call it?"

She pauses. "I didn't see the murder itself, no. And I didn't run into Powers again until some time later."

"Can you describe that encounter to us?"

She may not have a weapon now, but that doesn't mean she never did. She was certain WP killed "her Jack" when she ran into him, so she would have a motive. And with his ankle hurt, it would have been easier for someone to stand a chance against him. She... doesn't really strike me as a murderer, but I have to at least see where this line of questioning goes.

"Whippersnapper!" She bares her teeth at me. "What business is it of yours? We were talking about my Jack, and now you want to make it all about Powers? Why can't anyone these days focus on one topic? I tell you, that's what's wrong with the world today; our generation doesn't have the attention span to handle anything properly. Once, my cousin Chrissy was working at the piers..."

Um... We're the ones who can't stay on-topic?

"Oldbag! Er, Ms. Oldbag." Edgeworth clears his throat. "Your later encounter with Powers may seem irrelevant, but..." He taps his forehead. "His behavior when he next encountered someone so close to Hammer may more closely reveal what exactly the former had to do with the latter's death."

"Oh!" She flushes and bats her eyelashes at him. "It makes so much sense when you say it, Edgey-boy! Okay. I'll tell you."

Desperately trying to pay attention and not die laughing at "Edgey-boy," I elbow Maya when she starts giggling. Nope, I'm staying serious for now. Even with that dismayed look on Edgeworth's face...

"Powers was with that cute little girl, the both of them sitting on a log, when I first spotted them. They were talking quietly, about something pleasant, it looked like. Of course, knowing that Powers murdered Jack, I went right up to him to tell him what for. He denied it, though, and so did his friend. We all tried to convince each other of the real story, and then, well, we went our separate ways."

Well, _that_ included all of the important details... Where do I even start?

"You said they seemed pleased in their conversation?"

"Weren't you listening, sonny? Yes!"

"Could you tell if Powers' ankle was still a problem for him?"

She pauses for a second before suddenly deciding to take a seat. "Yes, it looked like he was wearing a brace."

"Okay." I go ahead and sit in front of her, a little to her left, as the rest of us give our feet a break. "Was that why you felt comfortable approaching him when you 'knew' he was a murderer?"

"I... I wasn't born yesterday! I knew he was dangerous with or without that ankle. I just kept my distance, so I could run if I had to."

I lean forward. "So, by 'approached,' you mean..."

"I went towards him! I don't remember the exact place where I stopped, whippersnapper! You nitpickers, waving your fingers around until you get every pointless detail..."

"I must admit," Edgeworth says, shrugging, "I see no reason the precise distance is relevant here."

Well, she knew it was WP before she approached. If she didn't come close enough to reliably use a weapon, she wasn't intending to kill him from the start. And there's no way talking to the poor guy would make her want to kill him more.

Am I right? Should I press further or give her a break?

I slam my palms on the ground. "Ms. Oldbag. Please tell us at least roughly how far you were from Powers when you stopped."

"Oh!" Her shoulders shoot up in indignation. "Fine! It was... Oh, probably twenty feet."

"All right..." She'll get too mad if I ask about her weapon of choice now. I'm sure I can slip that in later... "So, how did your conversation go, word for word?"

"I—" she snarls—"I can't remember every word of it so long after!"

"Objection!" Edgeworth frowns at me. "You really can't expect her to have memorized the entire conversation, Wright. Perhaps you should ask more reasonable questions, if indeed you can."

W-whose side are you on here? You can't be on hers, but you sure aren't on mine, either...

I take a second to compose myself and then turn back to Wendy, who's occupied fawning over Edgeworth. "Ms. Oldbag, can you remember if he had any noticeable reactions to your accusations? Did he look upset, or sad, or frightened?"

"Frightened? Why on earth would he be afraid of little old me?"

There we go. "Were you holding a weapon?"

"Not unless you count my own two fists, sonny. I had a water bottle and some turkey jerky, too, but that wouldn't exactly scare off a behemoth like Powers, even if he wasn't armed."

"No, it wouldn't." It wouldn't kill him, either. Unless she tricked him into triggering a trap, there's no way she could have murdered him.

"You're not stopping there, are you, Nick?" Maya, right next to me, whispers. "There's still a lot she hasn't told us."

I give her a discreet nod and go through Wendy's testimony in my head again. What have I missed...?

"Hold it!" I say, pointing at Oldbag. "You said you 'went your separate ways'? I think you could afford to be a little more specific about that."

I think I catch Edgeworth rolling his eyes at me, although Wendy doesn't seem that upset about me asking. She thinks for a moment before facing me.

"Well, another tribute came through waving a sword around, so I skedaddled."

"Whaaaat!?" I jerk back, and even Edgeworth seems a little rattled.

"H-hey! That seems like an important detail to me, pal!"

"Well—" Wendy snorts—"you hadn't asked about it."

"Who was the other tribute?" Edgeworth asks, stone-faced again.

"I don't know. I was paying more attention to the flashing broadsword than the face behind it. And that's all I needed to see before I ran."

I watch her. "Did you see if Will and Penny were fleeing as well?"

"No. I was far away before I heard a cannon, too."

I gulp. WP wouldn't have been able to run or kick, that's for sure. If the tribute with the sword knew how to use it, Will would have had trouble fending them off. Enough to get himself killed...?

"Is that good enough for you?" Wendy watches me icily. "Is my interrogation over?"

Edgeworth sighs. "Yes, Ms. Oldbag—"

"Objection!" I slam my hands on the ground again. "...Are you _sure_ you didn't see the tribute who held the sword?"

"Objection!" Edgeworth glowers at me. "I think she has made it perfectly clear that she did not see the other tribute. Try not to badger her."

Wendy turns towards him, clasping her hands and fluttering her eyelids again. "Oh, thank you, Edgey-boy."

Edgeworth cringes. "...You're welcome."

He gets up suddenly and prompts her to do the same. "We appear to finally be finished questioning you. Please feel free to return to your own business. I'm sorry that we've troubled you so."

Wendy is sure to take his hand to help herself up, and she doesn't let go. "Oh, it's no trouble at all." She glances at the rest of us. "Well, maybe a little. Regardless!" She turns back to Edgeworth with sparkling eyes. "You can still come with me, Edgey-boy."

Grimacing openly this time around, Edgeworth crosses his arms, being sure to lose her hand in the process. "I'm afraid I have obligations with this group, Ms. Oldbag." Shutting his eyes, he drums his fingers against his arm. "Perhaps we'll meet again, but I can't leave them behind for your sake."

"Oh..." She looks ready to cry. "Oh, well, I guess I understand. You're loyal to your friends."

She straightens up. "I guess this is so long, then. I'll be waiting for you, Edgey-boy."

She doesn't spare the rest of us a goodbye before she walks away.

I watch where she disappeared for a moment before I lean on Edgeworth's shoulder. "You sure you don't want me to call her back...?"

"Get off me, Wright!" He shoulders me off roughly before storming off, away from Wendy. We hurry after him.

Haha... Too much?


	18. Recording

We haven't fought over food before, but our sponsors have only ever sent us an even number of apples, or bread rolls. For dinner today, we managed to catch a pretty plump pair of rabbits. By "we," I mean Edgeworth, but he used my knives, so... "we."

We could just split each one in half and dole that out, but they aren't quite the same size. Then again, Gumshoe and Maya will probably eat more than the rest of us... Hmm...

"Be careful!" The chiming voice is definitely Miss May's. I look around, but I see a jabberjay before any pink hair. "Tugging on your scarf like that. You might..." A soft, strangled sound. "...choke yourself! Tee hee."

The recording ends there, leaving us to wordlessly listen to the crackling fire for a minute.

"So, Miss May, and..." I glance at the others. "Who was she with? Someone with a scarf... Oh! Didn't one of the other tributes bring one for his district token? It was... Uh... I forget."

Maya, sniffing at the cooking rabbits, looks up. "Wellington, right? The stuck-up one with the yellow streak in his hair?"

"Yeah! Wellington." I snap. "So he and Miss May at least met. It's impossible to say when, though." I sigh. "And it doesn't really give us clues to anything else... yet."

Edgeworth folds his arms. "With your apparent memory skills, it may be a good idea to start writing these snippets down. I don't suppose you have any paper?"

"Actually..." I open up my pack and pull out the newspaper clipping. "There's not much room on the side with the article, but the back is blank."

Edgeworth lifts an eyebrow. "Have you already read the article?"

"Well, I looked it over. It's just about trending Capitol fashion, though."

"Were there any odd-sounding phrases or misspelt words? Any particularly noticeable numbers?"

"Huh?" I look back at the newspaper before Edgeworth holds a hand out for it. "Its page number is 6, but..."

"I see." He takes the clipping and scrutinizes it, dragging his finger along the words and mouthing numbers, up to six before starting over. "It isn't letters..." Another quick run-through. "Or words." He frowns. "All right, perhaps it isn't a coded message."

A code? That would make more sense, for it to be in with other survival supplies. But I guess it isn't obvious. I'll have to take another look at it when Edgeworth isn't hogging it.

"All right, then." He flips the paper over, scanning it briefly before looking up at Gumshoe. "Gumshoe. We could use something to write with."

"Eh?" He blinks and then gets his own bag out, shuffling through it. "I-I don't think we have any pens in here, pal."

"Gumshoe," Edgeworth responds with a stern look.

Gumshoe pauses. "What?"

We all stare at him for a second, much to his confusion.

"Gumshoe," I finally say. "What's that behind your ear?"

"Huh? You mean my pencil, pal?"

He pauses.

He remains paused.

"Hey! I have a pencil!" Sliding it out from behind his ear, he rolls it between his fingers. "This ought to work, right? Here, somebody toss me a knife."

Chuckling, I comply, and he sharpens the pencil quickly before handing it to Edgeworth.

* * *

The only death today is Sal Manella, District 12. I was glad enough to have never run into him in here, but he still shouldn't be dead.

It could have been another trap. There seem to be quite a few, so it makes sense that someone would be a victim fairly often.

...Me and my traps. Why do I keep insisting on the traps doing the dirty work when I know there are—or at least have been—murderers here? I know some tributes have been caught in traps, but, in the end, we're... we're still killing each other. Just like every other Hunger Games. And there's no reason to believe this one won't go on until the last of us is standing. Just like every other Hunger Games...

Were the tributes the year before us as friendly before they stepped into the arena? The year before that? The year Chief was killed? What friends did she make in the Training Center before they all turned on each other? How was she strong enough to handle this...?

_Phoenix. We don't live in a perfect world. There are bad people. There are murderers. There always will be. But remember this! There will always be good people, too. People worth defending. People that need you. You can't forget about them, even if the whole world seems bleak sometimes. There's always hope, within the people we help. Never stop looking for that. Never let go of what you believe in. Never._

Huh...?

I look up to see Maya sitting next to me. "M-Maya? Was that you?"

"What?" She blinks. "I didn't say anything..."

"Oh..." I shake my head. "Sorry. It must have just been me."

I still find myself looking over my shoulder for Mia before I crawl into the shelter to get some sleep.

* * *

The first jabberjay ends up giving us another visit the next day. I can't tell one bird from another, but when it starts off with that same scream, I couldn't believe it's a different one.

We all freeze at the first sound of the recording, but Edgeworth stiffens to the point of shaking.

"Hey, you okay, pal?"

Edgeworth doesn't respond until Gumshoe waves a hand in front of his face.

Exhaling, Miles steps back. "That scream... I've heard that scream before..."

He frowns, looking more perplexed as the recording continues with Polly's and Yanni's conversation.

"It's not..." I pause, making sure the sound has cut off at the same point as before. "...the scream from your nightmares, is it?"

He nods solemnly. "Nichols's."

"But that was Polly's!" Maya hurries to stand in front of him. "We recognized it earlier."

Edgeworth crosses his arms. "But Jenkins wasn't there when... I killed Nichols. Nor did I hear the rest of that conversation."

I look him in the eye. "But if that scream was Penny's, why does the recording go on with Polly and Yanni?"

"That exchange was obviously from some time later." He taps one finger on his arm. "After all, Yogi was in no condition to talk when I had last seen him. And why would Jenkins so quickly accuse him of the murder if I were still present?"

"You weren't!" I stare him down as I try to figure out why. "Didn't you say it felt like 'some time' before you heard the scream? And you had made it to a completely different location by the time you regained awareness. You were already gone when Polly saw Yanni by... by Penny."

Edgeworth scowls. "But had Yogi recovered from the poisoning by then? We were hit at the same time, and I was only just losing consciousness altogether."

"You weren't both affected exactly the same way," I respond. "Gumshoe, didn't you say Yanni attacked Edgeworth the other day?"

Gumshoe knits his brows. "Yeah."

"And you, Edgeworth, were under the influence of the poison at the time. Yet Yanni was clearly in better condition—not even slouching, as I recall! Therefore, you can't claim that your lack of consciousness at the time has any bearing on Yanni's state!"

I lower my head a little, still looking Edgeworth in the eye. "That was one uninterrupted recording. That scream was Polly's. You never heard Penny!" Wishing there was something to slam my hands on, I curl my fists and continue. "Unless your knife throw—which you admit could not have been anywhere near your best—managed to cleanly cut her vocal cords before she even realized it was coming, she would have been able to scream. Or was she silent the whole time Yanni was attacking her?"

Edgeworth scowls, looking to the side. "No..."

"But you didn't hear Penny scream after you threw the knife! It didn't hit her at all!"

"Then how exactly did she die?" Edgeworth growls. "Surely you don't think Yogi was able to regain his clarity only to kill her. What reason could he have possibly had? Even if he were merely trying to narrow the field, he would have killed me as well!"

"Ugh!" I grind my teeth. "No, he wouldn't have killed you because... I... I don't know."

With a sigh, Edgeworth turns around. "I suppose I appreciate the effort, Wright, but you have no proof, nor even any solid conjecture, as to how I did not kill Nichols. Please stop. You're only making this harder on me."

"Nick! You're not going to let him get away with that, are you?" Maya frowns at me. "I know you've got something else up your sleeve!"

"I..." Swallowing, I look back at Edgeworth, who has only halfway turned back to see me. There has to be something... Something...!

"Hold it!" I charge over in front of Edgeworth. He gives me a tired look but doesn't turn away.

Taking a deep breath, I start, "Where was the cannon?"

He doesn't respond for a moment. "For Nichols, you mean?"

"Yes! If you heard her dying scream so distinctly, you would have been able to hear at least a bit of the cannon blast around it—but there was none, was there?"

He cringes. "You—You're going in circles, Wright. We've already discussed the possibility that the scream was Jenkins's."

I ignore him. "You never heard _any_ cannons, did you, Edgeworth?"

He crosses his arms. "No."

"So you actually have _no idea_ when Penny died! You don't even know how long it was between the time you threw the knife and the time you heard the scream! In fact, you likely weren't even conscious during that span! Maybe—" I inhale—"Maybe even Yanni wasn't conscious then! A completely different tribute could have walked in and killed Penny!"

Edgeworth scowls. "Grasping. Who would have come to kill Nichols without reason?"

"The reason was, as you said, to 'narrow the field.' And neither you nor Yanni was attacked because both of you appeared to have been dying, anyway!"

He snarls. "This is all pure guesswork!"

"So is your own reasoning!"

He freezes at that.

"I may not have evidence, but neither do you! And I am not going to let you shoulder that sort of guilt without it!" I try to calm down a little. "After all... You've done the same for me, haven't you?"

Edgeworth cringes, turning to the side. "I... don't remember such a thing."

"Edgeworth..."

He mutters something, and we have to ask him to repeat himself before he glances back at us.

"We've done enough shouting in one location. Isn't it about time we resumed the search for Byrde?"

Gumshoe casts a look back at us to make sure we don't have any more objections.

"Yeah, pal. I guess it is."


	19. Old Friends

I don't know if one of us misstepped or if something else entirely is going on, but the ground starts to shake after noon. It's only enough to unsettle our balance, but Edgeworth still starts to freeze up.

I survey the area, in case it's another mob of mutts. Gumshoe still has his nightstick, at least—still around his wrist, too, since his hands are too big for him to get the thing off and on easily. He's managed not to smack any of us yet, and we might as well be prepared, so I haven't asked him to stow it away.

But I don't see big dogs or anything else coming from any direction. The tremors die off, and Edgeworth rubs his arms before taking another step forward.

"Are you okay?" I keep pace with him.

"Yes." He crosses his arms. "I dislike earthquakes, that's all."

"Just like you dislike elevators?"

He flinches. "There's no need for you to pry like that."

"I'm not prying..." I shut my eyes for a second. "I—I just want to know something about how my best friend has been doing all these years!" Letting out a breath, I inspect the ground. "But, if you're not interested, I guess I can't make you tell me anything."

We walk in silence for a few steps, focusing on the woods around us. Nothing suspicious here.

"Wright..." Edgeworth doesn't look at me, and his voice is a little hard to hear. "We're in the Hunger Games. There's no time to be 'friends' here."

"What...?" I find myself falling behind and then pick up the pace. "Edg—M-Miles—"

He turns on me. "You will address me as Edgeworth. I will address you as Wright. We are allies and nothing more."

"Why?! We're already in this together—We already know each other—Why can't we—"

"I don't want to be friends with you, Wright!" He snarls. "I refuse to go back to our old relationship just before I have to watch you die!"

I draw back as he turns away, breathing hard.

E-Edgeworth... Is that it? You just... didn't want to watch a friend die? At least I know it's not something I've done, but... I don't want to watch you die, either. That doesn't mean it's not worth being friends again, though...

I've just started to wonder why so many roots are on the ground's surface when the earth starts to shake again. There's just the slightest rumble before it's suddenly so bad I'm knocked off my feet.

Crashing back shoulder-first, I shout as a jolt of pain shoots down my arm. It looks like the others have fallen as well, but the vibrations are starting to calm down a little bit.

I pick myself up a little and extend a hand to Maya. She stumbles over, while Gumshoe starts to crawl towards us. In front of me, Edgeworth is curled into a ball, making faint whimpering noises.

"Edgeworth!" Still crouched, I hurry over to him. He doesn't respond, and he doesn't hear the second time I call his name because the sound of wood splitting drowns it out. A thin but tall tree crashes behind us, kicking up a cloud of dust and grass pieces. It's clearer up ahead, though.

"Edgeworth! We need to move!" Cringing as I shift my shoulder, I reach for him, grabbing his arm. He screams and jerks away without uncurling himself.

What... What is going on? More trees are falling. He has to know he can't stay here. How is he so afraid?

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe, coming around to his other side, reaches out a hand. "We're going to have to get you out of here, pal! It's not safe! Try not to freak out, all right?"

Gumshoe hasn't laid a hand on him before the tree just to our left starts to kick up its roots.

"Hurry!" I make sure Maya is backing away with me as Gumshoe seizes Edgeworth by the shoulders and hauls him back thrashing. The trunk falls soon after, blocking most of the path ahead.

"No!" I stagger ahead. I'm sure we could climb over this any other day, but when the quaking makes it hard to walk...

"Nick!" Tugging on my arm, Maya points up ahead at the boughs. "Those look pretty strong, right! Can we shelter under them?"

"Good idea!" I think. District 5 doesn't get many earthquakes strong enough to rattle a glass of water. "Gumshoe! Edgeworth! Do you think we can make it?"

"Yeah, pal!" By this point, Gumshoe has let go of Edgeworth, who is as pale as his cravat but closer to standing now.

"Okay!" Still hanging on to Maya, I hurry ahead, doing my best to walk as straight a line as possible and not doing too well.

We make it to the main branches, though, and I at least get to the closest one before I look back at the others. Gumshoe is kind of dragging Edgeworth behind him, but they're at least coming more quickly now that the tremors are starting to settle down.

I go ahead and back up to another branch to make room, not without looking up at the swaying trees. I think the earthquake has died down enough that no more are falling, but that doesn't mean it can't start up ag—

With an echoing round of splinters, one last tree angles down. Gumshoe shouts and lunges toward us, but that doesn't keep the trunk from slamming into Edgeworth's lower back.

"Aaaaaah!" All but frozen, Edgeworth claws at the ground as it goes still.

Maya and I are beside him before I realize we've moved. Taking his arms, we try to pull him out from under the trunk, but it only makes him cry out again.

S-shoot. Is there some way to jack up the tree? I don't think I have the supplies for it, but—

With a roar, Gumshoe gets his hands underneath the trunk at either side of Edgeworth and pulls. I hurry to tug Edgeworth's arm again, and, with Maya's help, we get him out before Gumshoe loses his grip. The tree falls the rest of the distance with a crunch as we gather around Edgeworth.

He's panting, his breaths hissing through his clenched teeth. I can't see any blood, at least, but that hardly means he's not hurt.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Struggling for breath himself, Gumshoe looks over him. "Do you think you can walk, pal? We should try to move before there are any aftershocks."

Edgeworth shifts his legs—thank goodness—but he can't seem to push himself up.

Grimacing, Gumshoe takes one of Edgeworth's arms, and I take the other before I can be asked. We stand up slowly, but Edgeworth still growls stiffly as we try to balance his weight between us.

Maya hurries to her feet. "Are we going straight to the clearing?"

"We might as well, pal. Hopefully there won't be anything bad enough to knock over trees again, but I don't know if that one back there was really enough."

We start walking ahead.

"So you think these trees we engineered to fall?" I start, continuing to shoot glances at Edgeworth. The blood hasn't really come back to his face yet, but he's still hanging on to consciousness.

"Huh? Uh, yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking." He nods, picking up the pace.

I do my best to keep up, and we make it to the clearing without the ground rumbling again. Carefully setting Edgeworth down, we collapse, panting for breath. My shoulder's aching sharply now, but I get the feeling it's nothing compared to what Edgeworth is feeling.

"How are you doing, Edgeworth?" I scoot over in front of him, Maya behind me.

He growls. "Not well. I... think I'm bleeding."

"Where?" Gumshoe scrambles around to check on his back.

"I... inside." Edgeworth folds his arms across his stomach. "I can't be sure, but..." He trails off, panting.

I-inside...?

For some reason, he suddenly grins a little. "Perhaps... I won't have to watch anyone else die."

"W-wait. It can't be that bad. Maybe we could get some medicine from our sponsors." I look up. After all, Gumshoe is tied for the highest score still in the game. And it's not like we would need a whole bottle of anticoagulant or whatever. I-it could work out...

If the pills would do enough...

Wiping some sweat off his brow, Edgeworth smirks. "It's not that simple, Wright. Even if we were to receive a treatment now, it likely wouldn't start to work immediately—and it's already been a few minutes. One doesn't do terribly well with a load of blood where it shouldn't be. And even if I'm wrong, I can barely move my legs. If Powers died due to hurting one ankle, do you really believe I'll fare better? Or do you intend to carry me for the rest of the Games?"

"We can sure try, pal!" Gumshoe growls.

With a sigh, Edgeworth slumps. "I'm surprised I didn't realize the solution sooner, although I suppose I didn't want to think much about my own death."

"Solution...?" I dar to scoot a little closer to Edgeworth's side. "To... to not watching anyone die?"

"Anyone else... that I care about." He looks down.

The best response I can come up with is just echoing him, so I stay silent.

"Do you still..." He looks up at me. "...want to be friends—" he turns to the side, wincing—"...Phoenix?"

My mouth is too dry all of a sudden, so I just swallow and nod.

"Then... I suppose there's little reason not to tell you." He exhales before turning back to face me, and I can't help but notice his breaths are getting shallower. "Do you remember... going to Mayor's Day in the Justice Building, seven years ago? The... elevator couldn't carry many people at once, so we were sent down in groups."

That does sound kind of familiar...

"The last group to go down was my father and I, accompanied by a Peacekeeper. The doors shut on us... Before we made it to the bottom, an earthquake hit. The power went out, and we were trapped there... for five hours..."

He sucks in a breath. "Some emergency lights had come on... but there was no way out. And, not long after we were sure we were trapped... the Peacekeeper... cooly reached for his gun and shot my father in the heart, right in front of me." He pauses for a second to catch his breath, his eyes squeezed shut. "My father... had spoken out about some corruption during the tour earlier... Perhaps it wasn't worrisome enough to... handle him right there, but..."

He shakes his head weakly. "When it was all over, the authorities claimed... the elevator had run out of oxygen... The Peacekeeper claimed to not remember shooting... My testimony was brushed off as a hallucination... All of it was said to be due to ischemic brain damage... And then the whole incident disappeared... And so did I."

He watches me, his eyelids nearly closed. "As soon as we could, we moved to District 6... Where we wouldn't be so close to those who... condemned my father to death for a few just words..."

He looks off into the trees, still gasping for breath. "Perhaps that's not something I should say on national television... But..." Forcing a deep breath, he cradles his forehead. "I'm not thinking so clearly... I feel faint, and... the poison is coming back..."

"I..." I put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you told me, though... Miles." I swallow. "You might still not die here, but... before the poison knocks you out..."

I wait until Miles meets my gaze before I continue.

"You know you didn't kill Penny, right?" I try not to let my grip on him tighten too much.

His head lolls. "I know that we can't prove I killed Penny."

"Well, I know that you didn't kill her! I _know_. It wasn't you. It couldn't have been. Can you trust me? As your friend?"

He laughs quietly. "I'm afraid that's not the most convincing argument, Phoenix. Not when you always put far too much faith in people... Although I suppose there are worse faults to have."

He shuts his eyes, his words slowly becoming less distinct. "To be honest, I really missed you when we moved away... Larry, too—a little bit... Ha, and now we make friends again, just in time for you to watch me die... I suppose that wasn't a... very kind move on my part."

"No." Shaking, I squeeze his shoulder. "It was perfectly kind."

"And we're not watching you die, pal." Gumshoe props him up with a hand on Miles's back. "We'll be right here when you wake up again, all right? Just hang in there."

"That's right." Although she's shaking, Maya at least sounds confident. "You can handle this."

Miles mumbles and nods. He doesn't get out anything else before he becomes unresponsive.

But it's just the poison, and the pain... He'll come back. He's not going to die. He's not... going to die.

After another hour, he dies.


	20. Crossing Paths

We don't even know what to do with ourselves for the rest of the day. We at least move away from the clearing, but that's about all we can bring ourselves to do. No eating. Not much talking. No more walking than necessary. Just thinking. Mourning.

Miles... I had no idea... Where was I during all of that...? Just on an earlier trip down, with Larry or my parents? Would it have turned out differently if someone else rode with them?

...Probably not. It's not as if the government thinks that killing people is wrong. That killing loved ones and forcing children to watch is wrong. Even if I had stuck with Miles that day, even if Larry and I both did... It probably wouldn't make any difference.

I don't think there's anything we could have changed about today, either. We were watching for traps. Gumshoe was definitely going top speed when he was dragging Miles over to us. Maya and I would have gotten in the way long before we would have sped things up. We may have gotten hurt, too.

But that doesn't change the fact that Miles is dead. Whether it was bleeding, or the poison, or both... I don't know, but it doesn't really matter. All I can think about is him dead... The warmth of his shoulder fading until he was cold...

He's the only face in the sky tonight.

We forgot to build a shelter. It's not like we'll be able to sleep, anyway.

We make it to the next morning, at least. I wouldn't mind having some breakfast, but none is sent. We have some pine bark. It's tasteless, but I can't say that's completely the fault of the food.

Another cannon fires in the morning. We run into few jabberjays, and I dutifully take notes beneath Miles's.

_Miss May: You'd think I would have enough sponsors for a decent weapon. How am I supposed to defend myself without anything but my own hands? D-do my sponsors want me to get hurt? (sniffle)_

Maybe we'll run into her soon. It seems suspicious that she's talking about this with jabberjays all around... But I'm too tired to figure out the significance right now.

_Sal: You really killed him, though?_

_? ? ?: Yes. ...Are you surprised?_

_Sal: Uh, no! R.O.F.L.! _

_? ? ?: ...I'm a bit surprised myself._

_Sal: Oh, yeah! It was a [unintelligible] matchup. Not that I don't think you're plenty tough enough, diva—uh, Dee! L.O.L.!_

I cross out the question marks and scribble "Dee" next to them, but the words still seem too scrambled in my head for me to make anything of them.

Lunch is raspberries. Good thing we dragged ourselves around for a little while.

Once we've eaten all we can bear, we just set up a few snares with our wire and sit. Between Miles's death, our lack of sleep, and the little food we've had, we just don't have the energy to do much else. At least we won't trigger more traps.

Gumshoe is idly passing his baton between his hands when the trees in front of us all pause and look up, but before we can decide to flee or make a move to defend ourselves, another tribute stumbles in front of us panting.

Gumshoe leaps to his feet. "M-Maggey?"

"Maggey!" Maya hurries over by her, and I manage to get to my feet shortly afterward.

Although Maggey stands there without much wobbling, she doesn't look too good. Her glasses are crooked, one lens split in the middle, the fabric at the ends of her wrist cast is torn up, and a wide, dark burn goes across the back of her other forearm. She has scratches everywhere, ripped strands of her missing jacket around her calf, and no supplies on her.

Breathless, she stares at us for a second before letting out a cry and surging forward, hugging Maya and Gumshoe. I'm let into it once I've stepped up. Pain burns through my shoulder, but I tough it out.

"Y-you guys! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" Pulling back, she salutes, smiling for a moment before looking over us eagerly. "How have you been? Is everyone okay?"

We can't quite manage to avoid a gap of silence altogether, but Maya manages to respond before too long.

"All three of us, yeah! We're doing okay."

"But what about you, pal?" Gumshoe invites Maggey to take a seat where he had been a few moments ago. "You look hurt!"

"Oh." She adjusts her glasses, although it doesn't seem to make any difference. "I'm all right. I've run into some trouble, but… I've only triggered six traps so far! That's not bad, right, sir?"

The rest of us combined have triggered… Two or so?

"Well… Are you still bleeding anywhere?" Gumshoe waits for her to shake her head. "How about your arm? That looks pretty bad, pal."

She shifts her shoulder and looks at her burn. "Well, it's not fun, sir, but it doesn't hurt much as long as it doesn't touch anything. And as long as I don't turn my wrist around." She frowns, letting her arm drop.

I realize I should be really happy now that we've found her—or vice versa—and I am glad, but… It's too dampened to really make me smile. Not right now.

"So," I start, "you survived six traps and everything else in the Games for nearly a week now, without allies, sponsors, or the use of your dominant hand?"

She blinks. "G-goodness, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of…" Juggling her knees, she looks down. "But… yes. Dustin… Dustin ended up in a pitfall not far from the Cornucopia… I'm not sure who triggered it. I was checking behind me, and… when I turned around, he was gone. In a pit, his head twisted around too far… I don't know if he was the second or third to die, but…" She trails off, head bowed.

Gumshoe swallows and puts a hand on her far shoulder. "I-I'm sorry, pal."

She sighs. "I should have known something like that would happen. My bad luck rubs off on people. I probably shouldn't even hang around with you…"

"No—no." Gumshoe gives her a little shake. "You can stay. We'll be fine—I promise."

Maggey only glances up at him for a moment, still not smiling.

"Yeah." Hopping to her feet, Maya steps in front of her. "In fact, here! Have some good luck!" She holds her hands a little bit above Maggey's head and wiggles her fingers at her.

"W-what, sir?" Maggey, still slumped, looks up at her blinking.

Maya smiles. "I'm sprinkling some of my luck on you! That should help, right?"

Ha. Oh, Maya…

Maggey chuckles. "That might not be such a good idea. I'm a bit of a black hole—I'd hate for you to lose all of it."

"It's okay. I'll be careful." Maya flicks a few more invisible drops of luck off her fingers before she puts her arms down. "But you'll stay with us, right?"

"Sure." She perks up. "Well, if no one else minds."

"I don't mind." My voice still seems stronger than it ought to be. "I don't think any of us would object to your company."

So soon after Miles is gone, it's hard to want to be a group of four again, but… I can't let her get herself into trouble just because we're sad. I have to… I have to keep going. Keep helping. Because there's no point in struggling for survival if I'm going to be nothing but mournful. Yes, Miles deserves to be remembered, and, no, I'm not by any means over it, but… It's not an excuse to curl up and do nothing. Not when there's so much to be done in this place.

"Ah…!" Maggey clasps her hands as much as she can with the cast. "All right, then! I'll stay. Thanks, you guys."

"Don't mention it, pal."

* * *

When night falls, we haven't quite finished our shelter. While the anthem plays, we put things on hold as Piper Plumber, District 3, comes and goes. No one dares go back to work until Gumshoe takes the first step. It doesn't seem like he knew her well.

We go ahead and start a fire for light before we return to the shelter-building. Since Maggey's not that good for heavy lifting at the moment, she sort of supervises to make sure everything's at just the right angle. She's standing uphill, so it's not hard to notice when she starts shivering.

"You all right, Maggey?" I call.

She jumps. "Yes, sir! It's just a bit cold. I'll, um, step closer to the fire once we're finished."

"Hang on." Gumshoe hurries over, taking off his overcoat. Before Maggey can react, he puts it over her shoulders.

"W-wait!" Stepping after him before he's made it back to the shelter, she says, "I can't take this! It's yours. You got it fair and square."

Gumshoe turns around to face her, blinking. "But what's the point of me wearing it if you're cold?"

"But now you'll get cold, sir..."

Gumshoe laughs. "I'll be fine, pal. I still have a jacket." He heads back to the shelter-in-progress.

I don't place Maya until I see her right next to me.

"Hey, Nick." She leans towards me, grinning mischievously. "I'm starting to get kinda cold, too."

What are you expecting me to do, exactly...?

"Maya." Maggey walks over, lifting the overcoat off one of her shoulders. "I bet we could both fit in here!"

"You think?" Maya takes the left side of the overcoat and pulls it over, shuffling over next to Maggey. Their shoulders are pressed together, but they're both pretty well-covered regardless.

Maya looks over at Gumshoe. "How on earth does this actually fit you?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "Well, it is a little big... And you're both pretty slender."

"Ooh, how about the sleeves?" Maya wriggles until she can push her left arm into the sleeve on her side. Raising her arm, se flails a little, the loose, unoccupied end of the sleeve flopping around.

Ha... Larry does that all of the time with his jacket. He... must be in pretty bad shape right now. After... yesterday. And still having to watch me in here.

Just keep hanging on, Larry. Maybe we'll both be more or less all right in the end.

I look back at the girls, who have now taken over both sleeves. Slapping at each other's loose cuffs with them, they laugh at every floppy hit. It's hard not to smile a little bit.

"Say..." I glance at Gumshoe, who's currently standing next to me. "Did you just shiver?"

"Nope!" He crosses his arms and grins. "Must have just imagined it, pal."

Shaking my head, I look back at the other two. "You know, we're going to have to get back to the shelter sometime."

Maya faces me just long enough to stick her tongue out. "Well, not right now! A couple more minutes, okay? Sheesh, Nick. You are an enemy of fun."

"Well, you're an enemy of me getting a decent amount of sleep."

"So what?" Maya grins and turns back around.

With a snort, I leave her to her game and head back to the unfinished part of the shelter.


	21. A Knock to the Head

"Your watch, pal."

Begrudgingly, I pick myself up and drag myself outside, watching Gumshoe disappear into the shelter before I look around.

The last of the fire is dying out, and I'm too sluggish to think of helping it out before it's gone altogether. Oh, well. I've survived nights without it. Even if these jackets barely provide any protection from the wind.

It's hard to wake up when it's still so dark outside... And I'm still weary... from all of it. Maybe Miles's death is the rawest wound, but W.P. is still dead, and Penny, and Dustin, and... how many others now? We have to be halfway through the field by now. It's bizarre, and... I really think it's taking more of a toll on me than the lack of food and such. I haven't figured out any deaths but Polly's, Cindy's, and Frank's. Maybe it's not as important when everyone on the outside knows exactly what happened, but... I hate not knowing who the murderers are. Not knowing what happened to make my friends die. It's... It's just...

With a sigh, I try to rub my eyes awake. All I do is blur what little vision I have in this light.

Maybe I should start a fire... Wake myself up, try to figure out some of the jabberjay notes... But I'm too tired...

I do my best to stay awake as I sit here partially reclined.I've got to keep an eye out... There are hostile tributes out there...

I've nearly dozed off when I think I hear footsteps. Shaking myself, I squint at the shadows—tree roots, stones, grasses, small plants—

Something cold and metal slams into the side of my head, and white flashes blur out the details as I cry out and tumble sideways.

Ow—Ow—What's...?

Tumbling sounds. Wood? The shelter? What...?

"Aah!" One of the girls.

I have to get up. Something's—Okay, I can't get up. Not getting up. Ow...

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, pal?"

A half-clunk, half-whap, then a gasp.

"I-I-I am but drifting! Thank you for asking! G-goodbye, now!"

"Hey! You—!"

More footsteps crunching. Getting softer. Although that could be my hearing... I can feel myself starting to drift...

"Hold it...! Shoot—Maggey! Are you okay?"

"Y-yes, sir. He didn't hit me. But Phoenix...!"

"Phoenix!"

"W-what...? Nick...? What's going on...?"

* * *

I wake up in sunlight. Although the trees above me only let jagged patches through, I'm still pretty warm. And my head really hurts. I think there might be an injury on the left side, but my whole skull is pounding so hard I can't say for sure.

"Hey! I think he's waking up!"

"Oh!"

Groaning, I try to look around a little more and dare to start sitting up. Aside from the wave of nausea, it's not a bad idea. Now I can see the faces of the three sitting before me.

Right in front of me is a girl with bent-up glasses. "Sir! How are you feeling?"

"Huh?" I stare at her, trying to figure out who she is. She's wearing the same outfit as me, minus the jacket—actually, the other two are also wearing it. And—hang on—the unfamiliar environment, the injuries all around, the odd sadness in the back of my head... Is this the Hunger Games? That—that sounds right? Am I...

Who am I...?

The other three—surely my allies—seem worried by my lack of response, so I swallow. If this is that dire a situation, there's no need to panic them, more, right?

"Uh, I'm doing okay, thanks. My head hurts, but... But that's all."

"Ah, all right." Crooked Glasses leans back a little. "It looked like you got hit pretty hard, sir."

"Yeah—you don't think you have a concussion or anything, pal?" The one on her right, a big guy with a square jaw and a pencil behind his ear, frowns at me.

"Uh... I don't really know?" I rub the back of my neck. "I just woke up, and all I know for sure is that I have a pretty bad headache." And I really do mean that that's all I know...

"Well, let's just not move around too much today, all right?" The last one, a girl with... Chief's necklace...? says. "We could all use a little rest, anyway." She pauses. "Nick? Is something wrong?"

I don't ask her about the necklace. I feel like I'm already supposed to know about it. "No. Sorry."

So, my name is Nick...? Okay... It doesn't ring any bells, but I guess I shouldn't expect it to...

"Here!" Necklace Girl claps her hands together and gets up. "I'll turn to the pond and get some water for you."

"Huh?! Wait—" she doesn't look like that much of a fighter—"I don't think you should go by yourself."

"It's not that far, you know." She grins at me.

"Here, I'll come with you." Crooked Glasses pushes herself up.

"Uh—" Square Jaw reaches after her for a second but glances at me. "A-all right. Be careful."

"We will, sir."

With that, the girls pick up their bags and head out. I watch after them for a second before turning back ahead. It makes my neck hurt a little less, at least, although it doesn't make much of a difference for my head.

Just beyond Square Jaw's shoulder is a haphazard, curved stack of branches, dirt and leaves all over it.

"Yeah, whoever attacked last night wrecked the shelter pretty bad, pal." Square Jaw turns his head to look at the mess. "You were probably already unconscious by then."

He turns back around. "I was just waking up from you yelling, so I don't know firsthand, but the attacker had already ruined the shelter when I noticed him. Maggey was already up, I guess—I heard her shouting and got up as quickly as I could. There wasn't enough light for me to see the attacker's face, but he gasped and swung what looked like a fire extinguisher at me. I caught it, and then he kind of panicked and ran. I, uh, didn't catch him, but I did check on Maggey. She said she wasn't hurt and then pointed me to you, and, by then, everybody was waking up, so we just all kept an eye out. Nobody came, and then, well, you woke up not too long after sunrise."

"Huh." I look over the area from where I sit.

So... One of the girls is named Maggey. Crooked Glasses seemed pretty injured to me, but that doesn't necessarily mean it wasn't her. Hmm... Well, I'll just keep winging it, I guess.

"Hey," I start, pointing over to a glint near the shelter. Although some supplies are near what likely used to be the mouth of the lean-to, they're all organized, in bags. But this is over there by its lonesome. "What's that?"

Square Jaw looks over. "Oh—the glasses?" Getting up for a second, he fetches them and presents them to me. "Yeah, I saw them earlier, pal. The attacker must have lost them. You remember anyone who was wearing glasses before?"

"Uh... The only one I can think of is in our alliance."

"Hmm." He looks over the glasses. "They're in pretty good shape—I wonder if Maggey could use them?"

Okay, so Crooked Glasses is definitely Maggey. Wonder who the rest of these guys are...

"What are the odds that they'd be the right strength?"

"Good point, pal. We'll just have to see."

* * *

Necklace Girl sits next to me as we go through some of our water. "So, are you feeling a little better today? Well, not in the head, but about... Edgeworth?"

E-Edgeworth?! How does she know about him? What does he have to do with any of this? If I'm sad about him, something must have happened to him, but... I haven't seen him in years. And he can't be in the Hunger Games, if I'm the tribute from my district. Unless he moved all the way to another district, but...

No. No, no, no. That can't be right. That couldn't happen.

Necklace Girl takes my silence for an answer and sighs. "I guess it's still only been two days, after all. Sorry."

"No, it's all right..." I fold my arms and watch the ground.

How could... No... This doesn't make sense...

Across from me, Square Jaw sighs, expression glum. "It still feels like it was just this morning, pal. Even if he wasn't really thinking straight, he... trusted me to get him out of the way. We trusted each other with our lives, you know—it's hard not to, after spending a night out there, and after I—I—" Blanching, he flicks his gaze to the side. "A-after Yanni tried to attack him."

"Yanni?" Maggey blinks. "Why would he want to attack Edgeworth?"

Necklace Girl looks down. "It's a long story, but... he had a reason. Not a good one, but a reason."

What kind of reason? Do I already know this? Who's Yanni?

A-and—Miles is _dead_?

"Ah" Maggey looks back at Square Jaw. "So you saved Edgeworth from him?"

"U-uh, yeah, pal. Anyway, uh... who wants to... find food?"

"Wait a second!" Necklace Girl leans forward. "What exactly was Yanni like when he attacked?"

Square Jaw stammers. "What? Why would we need to...? I mean—hey! We're talking about getting food, pal! Don't change the subject!"

"Gumshoe! You're the one changing the subject!" She looks at me. "Yanni was there when Penny was killed. What he acted like could give us clues into what happened then. Right, Nick?"

I have no idea what's going on, who anyone is, what happened to Edgeworth—who might be _dead_—and... I... Maybe I should just tell them...

"I..." Look at her, though... She's really counting on me... Maybe I can at least piece together something. "I think you're right. Let's hear it, Gumshoe."

He frowns, hunching his shoulders. "I-I don't want to talk about it, pal!"

"Why not, sir?" Maggey watches him, frowning with her eyebrows raised.

Gumshoe looks around at us for a second before he slumps. Head tilted down and sad eyes looking up at us, he says, "B-because... I killed Yanni. And unlike Mr. Edgeworth, I have hard evidence that I really did it."

"Whaaaat?!" Maggey and the other girl both cringe in shock, while I can only stare dumbly at the confessing killer. I guess he's not the kind of guy we'd expect to kill someone.

No... He's not...

Gumshoe...?

Just a glimpse of memory niggles at the back of my mind, but it's gone before I can really grasp it. Still... there's something wrong here.

I put my hands on my knees. "Well, we have to hear your account now. If you're able to give it."

Gumshoe swallows, still giving us that kicked-puppy look. "O-okay, pal..."

He straightens up a little, although he still looks far from happy. "It was late afternoon, on the second day. I had only run into Mr. Edgeworth maybe two hours before then. He had been doing pretty well, but in the last half hour or so, he started slipping. And then, before I knew it, Yanni was on us. He was real angry, and he barely even looked at me before he charged at Mr. Edgeworth. I knocked Yanni out of the way, but he got up and tried to get past me again, so I whacked him with the baton. But... he still didn't stop. I ended up hitting him in the head before he finally started backing up. He was bleeding pretty bad when he disappeared into the trees. A couple minutes later, a cannon blew, and the hovercraft picked him up not too far away."

Hunched up again, he looks at the ground.

I can feel Necklace Girl looking at me unhappily. "Well? Find anything fishy?"

I take a deep breath. There are a few things I'd like to press on... "Yeah..." I turn to Gumshoe. "Can you go through that once more?"

He nods, looking at the corners of his eyes as his mind goes back. "It was late afternoon, on the second day."

Well, if no one has a watch, I can't ask him to be more specific than that.

"I had only run into Mr. Edgeworth maybe two hours before then."

"Hold it!" I let my hands fall by my hips. "How exactly was... Edgeworth doing when you first saw him?"

"He was all right. Not injured, and in his right mind, but he definitely looked tired."

I rub my chin. "How did he react to running into you?"

"Uh... Mostly he glared at me, but he seemed all right with sharing some water and walking together some."

Necklace Girl looks at me. "I don't see what this has to do with anything, Nick..."

I rub the back of my neck. "S-sorry..." I'm just trying to get as much information as I can here.

There's just a bit of a pause before Gumshoe continues. "He had been doing pretty well, but in the last half hour or so, he started slipping."

"Hold it! What do you mean by 'slipping'?"

"You know, pal. The poison was acting up again, and he was sorta in a daze."

Poison... acting up again...? Something that went in cycles, I guess? "So you didn't walk any farther after that?"

"That's right." He looks to the side. "And then, before I knew it, Yanni was on us. He was real angry, and he barely even looked at me before he charged at Mr. Edgeworth."

"Hold it! You say he charged? Did he have any weapons?"

"No. He..." Gumshoe slumps. "...probably would have been able to defend himself a little better if he did."

"Nick!" Necklace Girl holds her fists in front of her. "Don't you know what that means?"

"...Huh?" He was crazy...?

"He didn't have the knife! If he had picked it up and killed Penny with it, don't you think he would have kept something like that?"

"Y-yeah."

The knife... The knife that Edgeworth had...!

And... they were both hit by a poison spray trap... And...

And...

No, that's all I can think of right now. Darn it...

Gumshoe sighs. " I knocked Yanni out of the way, but he got up and tried to get past me again, so I whacked him with the baton. But... he still didn't stop."

Nothing to pick on there.

"I ended up hitting him in the head before he finally started backing up."

I guess I would want to start backing away, too, at that point...

"He was bleeding pretty bad when he disappeared into the trees."

"Hold it! From the head wound?"

Gumshoe slouches. "Yeah, pal."

I put a hand to my chin. "But don't head wounds always bleed a lot?"

"Do they?" He looks up, an eyebrow arched. "I guess..."

That still doesn't prove it wasn't lethal, though...

"A couple minutes later, a cannon blew, and the hovercraft picked him up not too far away."

"Hold it!" I inhale. "So he was able to walk some distance before he died?"

"That's what it looked like."

"And you didn't actually see the moment of death?"

"No." Gumshoe looks to the side. "But it's pretty clear he bled to death from the head wound, pal."

...That's everything. But... something still doesn't seem right...

Wait...! I think I remembered something!

"Objection!" I shout before pausing.

What... What's come over me...? Without thinking, I just blurted out, "Objection!"... And I yelled it at the top of my lungs, finger outstretched, ready to take on my opponent! What a rush!

"Gumshoe." I slam my hands on my knees. "You say the last you saw of Yanni, he was bleeding from a head wound you gave him and stumbling away, correct?"

He frowns, his other eyebrow raised. "Yes."

"But he was able to walk around for a few minutes before he died! The injury couldn't have been that bad! Something else killed him!"

Suddenly panting, Gumshoe frowns at me, teeth bared. "Like what? Don't make claims you can't back up, pal!"

Arms akimbo, I grin. "Oh, I can back it up. Take that!" I point at the crucial piece of evidence.

Gumshoe blinks. "Maggey's burn...?"

Hands on my hips again, I tilt my head down a bit and look at him. "Do you remember how she got that, Gumshoe?"

"Huh?" He thinks for a second. "From a trap, right?"

"That's right." Oh, yeah. I've got this. "This whole arena is riddled with traps, isn't it?"

"Yeah...?"

"So, tell me...!" I lean in. "_How is hitting Yanni before he walked off into an area full of traps 'hard evidence' that you killed him?_"

Gumshoe stammers. "H-hard evidence? Did... did I say that? Me?"

"I heard you say it!"

Necklace Girl nods. "You did say it."

"You said it, sir."

"W-well..." He blinks. "I... I guess it's not really solid proof..."

"It can't be." I slam my hands on my knees. "Because you didn't kill him, Gumshoe. And you can't prove something that didn't happen!"

He leans back a little, still looking awed. I guess I can have that effect on people.

"Maybe... I didn't kill him, then?"

"O-of course you didn't, sir!" Maggey leans towards him. "We know you didn't!"

"That's right!" Necklace Girl smiles at him, and then me. "Good job, Nick!"

"Thanks."

...Now if I could only figure out what else has been going on...


	22. The Truth

"A-amnesia?!"

I rub the back of my neck and grin sheepishly. "I... Uh..."

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Necklace Girl puffs out her cheeks.

"Sorry. It, um, sounded like we all had enough to worry about without me forgetting everything..."

"Oh! I know what to do!" Maggey perks up. "I heard you can fix something like this with a really strong shock to your system! Come on, lower your head a little! A Maggey Kick should be all you need!"

I lean back. "Ah, no, no, no. I think I'll pass on this one."

"Come on!" Maggey frowns, looking ready to kick me regardless, but she settles down. "...Ah, I'm sorry. Whenever I see someone in trouble, I have a hard time leaving them alone... I tend to stick my nose where it doesn't belong and try to tackle everyone's problems."

Well, my head's one problem you won't be tackling today...

"Things are starting to come back to me, though." I exhale. "Little by little..."

"Well, you at least remember me, right, Nick?" Necklace Girl smiles, clapping her hands together.

"Uh, yeah... Sort of." I rub the back of my neck again. "What was your name again...?"

"Nick!" She thrusts her fists down. "How could you forget about me? You big meanie!"

"H-hey, it's not like I'm choosing what I remember!"

She sighs loudly before crossing her arms. "Well, I'm Maya. Maya Fey. And you'd better not forget it again, you old prune!"

Old prune...?

I nod. "It's easy enough to remember, though... It's almost the same as Mia's..."

"I'm pretty sure our parents did that on purpose." Maya lifts one hand to rest her cheek on.

"That's right—you're her little sister." I meditate on that point for a minute, but it doesn't jog any more memories, so I look at the rest of the group.

"Well, I'm Gumshoe, pal." He grins. "And I can beat you in any battle of wits!"

Maya gives him a look. "Are you sure about that?"

"Huh? Ye—Wait!" He snarls, panting. "I get it! You're doing mind tricks right now! So, no! No, I'm not sure!" He pauses, eyes rolling up a little. "Uh..."

Yeah, I'm not too sure, either, "pal."

"And then I'm Maggey Byrde, sir. I only met up with you all yesterday, but we sort of made friends back in the Training Center."

Before I can think of a response, a cannon blows. We stay silent for a second, but the wildlife continues to make enough of a ruckus it's not very quiet.

"And..." I look down. "Miles... Uh, Edgeworth died... the day before?"

"That's right." Gumshoe slumps. "He got crushed by a falling tree that morning. Had just enough time to make friends with you before he..." He blinks slowly and sniffles. "...was gone."

I nod and look down. So that's it... Poor Miles. I can't believe it... But Gumshoe has no reason to lie, and I have no reason to question him. If Miles was in the Hunger Games, I know I would have tried to find him in the arena. And he's not here now, so...

I kind of wish I could have kept forgetting that, just for one more day... But I guess that isn't right. Ignoring deaths is no good way to deal with them.

"But hey!" Gumshoe starts suddenly, straightening up. "We did find Maggey, and she's been safe since. At least there's something to celebrate, right, pal?"

I watch him for a second. "Yeah..."

We all seem pretty safe at the moment, too, despite getting attacked last night. I still have a killer headache, but that seems to be all of the damage...

"You know they're onto you." The unfamiliar voice makes me jump, but I don't see anyone new when I look around. Just a... jabberjay?

Gumshoe scrambles to get out a piece of paper and ready his pencil as the voice continues.

"And how you pushed Dustin. One of my little birdies told me they're piecing it together."

A loud gulp before the same voice continues.

"He was very important to them, too. I don't think they'll be very nice to you when they see you next."

"W-what?" A strangled cough. "How could they—how could they know? No one saw it!"

"They can still figure it out, though." A brief pause. "Actually... I think the only one who's close is Spiky-Head. If he doesn't put the pieces together himself, oh, for some reason, then I don't think the rest would ever know it was you."

Spiky-Head...?

"For some reason...?"

"Well, I have an idea... if you must know!"

I wait for a minute, but the recording doesn't continue.

Gumshoe tucks his pencil behind his ear and stands up in a huff. "I can't believe it! That was definitely Miss May, pal! And the guy must have been whoever attacked us last night! Did she set the whole thing up?!"

I blink at him. "Is Spiky-Head supposed to be me...?"

"Well, you've got the spikiest head in the bunch." Maya flicks at the back of my hair. "Although I don't think we ever said anything about someone pushing Dustin..."

"Maybe she made the whole thing up?" Gumshoe frowns. "But what would she have against you, Spiky-Head?"

"Use my real name, please!" Whatever it actually is... "And how would I know? Amnesia, remember?"

A sudden shattering sound sends us all looking towards Maggey. On her feet, she lets out a cry and smashes the blue pair of glasses with her foot.

"M-Maggey!" Gumshoe hurries next to her.

"I can't wear these!" she cries. "They—they belong to the one who killed Dustin! Oh...!" She kicks the mangled glasses out of sight and sobs. "Where... Where did I put my pair...?"

"C-calm down, pal." He puts a hand on her shoulder. "They're—they're in the shoulder bag I gave you, right?"

"Yeah..." She sniffs. "I think so... Ohh!" She clenches her fists, her eyes squeezed shut. "Where is he? Let me at him! Let me...! Dustin..."

Breathing unevenly, she walks over to the shoulder bag and squints at it. "I-I just thought he had fallen... I should have known better..."

"Maggey..." Swallowing, Gumshoe stares at her for a second before he sits down and helps her go through the bag.

They find the bent-up pair before long, and Maggey puts them on with a shuddering sigh.

"Wait a second." Maya frowns. "Didn't we hear something else from Miss May earlier? Her talking to someone else?"

I lean back. "Why would you ask me...?!"

She huffs. "Well, I don't know what all you remember yet..."

"Hey! I think you're right!" Gumshoe scrambles to get the piece of paper again. "There was one about her commanding the jabberjays—" W-wait, we can do that?—"and another where she was talking to somebody! We didn't get to hear the other guy's voice, but we're pretty sure it was the one with the scarf."

"The scarf... And the glasses..." Maggey hugs her elbows. "It's not... Richard, is it?"

"Yeah! That's got to be it, pal!" Gumshoe pants. "Richard Wellington." He settles down in a flash, looking both ways. "He sure sounded like he was confessing to doing that, too..."

Maggey exhales loudly, curling and uncurling her fingers. "I can't believe... Dustin didn't do anything to deserve this... Why would Richard... But I guess I know why..." She looks down, gripping her elbow. "I'm sure that Dustin's gone because of me..."

"That's not true!" Maya frowns. "Why would you say that?"

Maggey only glances up for a fraction of a second. "People called me 'Lady Luckless' for a reason... And my misfortune always seems to latch onto those around me." She squeezes her eyes shut. "Everything is all my fault! Dustin's death, your head being all messed up..."

"Hey!"

"Hey."

Before I know it, we've all gathered around Maggey, hands on her shoulders—or hugging her in Maya's case.

"There's no way this is your fault." I sigh. "Not just because you don't have the best luck."

"Yeah, pal. Don't worry about it. Not like this."

We sit there for a minute before Maggey straightens up.

"...You're right. I'm not gaining anything by shouldering the guilt myself. I... I can't move on from his death so easily, but I should at least try to keep my chin up." She smiles hesitantly. "Gumshoe, sir?"

"Uh—y-yeah?"

"You were talking about finding food, right? How about we get to that?"

"Yeah." He hurries to his feet and extends a hand to her. "Let's do that."


	23. Hard to Crack

That is one flimsy-looking fishing pole. But I guess if you have to make it yourself in the middle of the woods, it can't end up being that impressive. I guess it's a testament to Gumshoe's building skills that it at least looks like a somewhat real fishign pole... but its quality is still dubious.

Regardless, Gumshoe decides to set up at the edge of the pond and try it out. There are at least fish in here, so maybe we'll end up with something. If not, there are always sponsors... right?

I feel like we've had food sent to us before. I can't recall what type or when, but... I at least remember it a little bit. Things keep coming back to me, although I'm still pretty far behind. At least the others are willing to help me out.

"So, I've never actually gone fishing before, but this is supposed to take a while, right?" says Gumshoe, waving the fishing rod around a little as the line drags in the water.

I think it would take longer if you have no idea what you're doing...

"Yeah, I think so, but I've only ever fished on a whole lake." Maya ponders.

"You want to look through some of the conversation we've recorded, then? Might be a good way to pass the time." He waves an elbow at one of the bags. "The newspaper's in that one, pal."

"I still don't remember all of the pieces to put together." I open up the bag and pull out the clipping, anyway. "We can give it a shot, though."

"Don't worry, pal. I can fill you in on some stuff."

"All right." After a brief glance at the actual printed page—those are some weird-looking jackets—I flip the page over. There are three different sets of handwriting. At the bottom, in sloppy, capital letters, is the most recent one, noted by Gumshoe. My script is in the middle, and at the top are a few lines in precise, half-cursive letters that must be one of the girls'. Or... Or maybe Miles's.

Exhaling, I skim over the lines. A few, I remember. A lot of the names I don't recognize, but one in particular nags at me.

"Who's Dee?"

"She's the girl from District 12," Maya says before Gumshoe can answer.

"Yeah—Dee Vasquez," he adds quickly. "Slender, collected, kind of shady, got a 6 in training."

Nodding, I look back at the script, batting the page back when the wind tries to blow it in my face. "Not the strongest, then? Is that why she was surprised that she killed someone?"

"Could be." Gumshoe lifts an eyebrow, thinking. "I don't think she sounded too surprised in the recording at all. Either it was a while after the fact, or she's a little too cool-headed for her own good."

"Hmm." I exhale, looking over the words again. "And it loos like Sal was still around, so it couldn't have been him. What are the other options, then? Who could she have killed?"

"You mean, what guys were dead, pal?" He lets out a breath. "I think... Sal was gone by the end of day four. So, before then..." He trails off for a minute, bobbing the fishing pole around. "Day one, we had Dustin Prince—" he stops to cast a glance back at Maggey, who's picking at the grass—"but we know that wasn't her. Also, Will Powers, Jack Hammer, and Frank Sawhit. Day two was Yanni Yogi; day three, Winston Payne... And I think Sal Manella was the only guy dead on day four." He stares at the pond's surface for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

Does he... actually remember all of that? Him? Well, I guess not being the sharpest doesn't mean you can't have a decent memory...

"And we know she didn't kill Frank, so..." Maya folds her arms halfway. "W.P., Jack, Winston... or Yanni? Could she have run into him after he got away from Gumshoe?"

"I think I would have noticed her, pal. Especially if she were running around with Sal. He's, uh, kind of hard to miss."

"But if she were with Sal, why would she do the killing herself?" Maya frowns. "I mean, it kind of seemed like he was her lackey... He didn't score any higher than her, but he was at least bigger."

I put a hand to my chin. "If that's the case, she would have killed this person before she met up with Sal, right? Do we have any idea when that happened?" I look back over the notes.

"We didn't get that recording until Sal was already dead, pal. Unless we hear something else about him or Dee, we don't know when that conversation was—Whoa!"

Flinching back, Gumshoe tugs at his bending fishing pole and frantically starts to crank the reel. After a minute of struggle, the hook rises out of the water, a shining, hand-sized fish flopping around on it.

"Hey! Check that out!" Laughing, Gumshoe swings around so the fish is dangling over the mud instead. "Put up a pretty good fight for a little guy, but it's something!"

"Hooray!" Maggey carefully pinches the top of the crooked hook and grabs the fish with her left hand. "I'll start cleaning it up right away, sir!"

"Great." Gumshoe watches her remove the fish before he looks at the ground. "We should probably get another worm, then. Try for more." He rolls his shoulders back. "Looks like I'm pretty good at this. Bet I can catch enough for everyone!"

"I sure hope so!" Maya starts digging a little.

I join her, and we manage to find a wriggling worm before too long. Gumshoe spears it with the hook and casts his line again.

"Now, uh... Where were we, pal?"

I shift my legs. "You were saying we have no idea what day Dee's and Sal's conversation was recorded, so we're not knocking out any possibilities from that."

"Right. So, we're only down to... Will, Jack, and Winston?"

"That sounds right." I frown, trying to remember these people, but the only name that rings a bell is Will's. He... was supposed to be in our alliance, and... And he got an 11 in training, and... Why can't I think of his face?

"But from what Oldbag told us," Maya says, "whoever hurt W.P. was charging in with a sword." She looks at me.

"Yeah... If Dee didn't expect to win that fight, she wouldn't have been the one attacking." I exhale. "So that leaves Jack and... Winston."

"It would definitely be surprising if she killed Jack." Maggey looks up from the half-cleaned fish.

"More than surprising, pal." Gumshoe blinks. "That would be plain crazy."

"Crazy things happen sometimes..." I watch the little waves on the pond. "But is there any reason to assume it wasn't Winston?"

From the silence that follows, I guess there isn't.

"So... we don't have sufficient evidence to make a judgment." I skim the conversations again, but there's nothing promising. "We'll just have to keep looking—or, listening."

Maya nods. "I'm on it, Nick! I'll listen hard enough for all of us!"

I chuckle. "You do that..."

We watch Gumshoe fish unsuccessfully for a while before I look over the newspaper clipping again. "Weird that something like this would be in the Hunger Games. Was it a donation or something we found?"

"It was in the first bag you grabbed," says Maya.

Gumshoe shifts his hands on the fishing pole. "Mr. Edgeworth thought it was an every-six-letters code or something, but it turned out not to be."

"Huh..." Edgeworth...

I go ahead and try what I think he means, but the letters don't come together into words.

"...Did he try it backwards?" I start, sliding my finger to the last letter and counting.

"Uh, I don't think so, pal."

After a moment, I shake my head. "It doesn't work, anyway. ...How about sideways?" I turn the paper one way and try it that way. "Sideways on the other side? No. Sideways _and_ backwards...?"

"Face it, pal. You don't have any more idea what it is than Mr. Edgeworth did. Don't feel bad, though."

H... I... G... Yeah, this isn't looking promising. Maybe it really is nothing. ...H...

"H-hang on!" I sit up, going over the letters again to double-check.

"Ooh! Did you crack it?" Maya looks over my shoulder at the paper.

"I don't know, but, going this way, it at least spells 'high'... Hey, Gumshoe, can I use your pencil?"

"Sure, if you really think you're going to find something." He shrugs.

"Thanks." Since his hands are full, I take the pencil myself and sit back down. Smoothing out the right margin, I start to write down all the letters I get.

_HIGHVOLTAGEPOSSIBILITYOFDAMAGETOEQUIPMENTTAKEAPPROPRIATEPRECAUTIONS_

Gumshoe leans back. "What, is it actually something?"

"Yeah—check it out." I hold the paper in front of him.

"How about that?" He squints at the letters crammed into the space. "High... volt... age... possibil... Oh, possibility. Of damage... toe... quip... Hang on, pal. 'Ment' isn't a word, at least not spelled like that."

"Uh, I think it's supposed to be 'to equipment'..."

He frowns. "Oh..."

I take the paper back, deciding it might be better if I just try to read it. "High voltage, possibility of damage to equipment, take appropriate precautions."

Maya blinks, leaning back. "It doesn't mean that piece of paper, does it?"

"I... somehow doubt that this is high voltage." I rub the clipping between my fingers. "It must be a warning for something else..."

But for what...?

* * *

Thankfully we already have most of a shelter ready for us, because it's nearly sunset when Gumshoe decides he's not going to catch any more fish. We somehow got four, though, and they're all a decent size. It might be nice to keep on like this for the rest of the Games, but there are only so many fish in the pond, and I don't think that poor fishing pole is going to last another day.

I wouldn't mind moving around a little, either. Maybe we can come across some of the places people died. It's morbid, but there are only so many clues we can get from hearing the jabberjays. I'll ask about it tomorrow.

For now, it's dinnertime. Maya seizes the biggest fish, waiting only a second for anyone to object before she starts nibbling at it.

"Maya!" I whisper.

"What? Nobody told me not to. It's barely bigger than the others, anyway."

I sigh. "Still..."

"Well, I guess Maggey gets the second-biggest one, then."Gumshoe squints at the skewers for a second before selecting one and offering it to Maggey.

"No! You're the one that caught them, sir!"

"But you're the one that got them ready to cook." He doesn't lower the fish. "Besides, you've been having less to eat than us this whole time, right, pal? We might as well try to catch you up."

"Oh..." Maggey looks to the side. "But you need more food than me, don't you? You're carrying the heavier bags and all..."

"Peh!" He waves the fish in front of her nose. "Just take it, pal. I'll be fine even if I don't eat anything. I know how to handle a little hunger."

Still looking unhappy but resigned, she takes the fish. Gumshoe smiles, taking another for himself, and I get the small fry. Well, the bigger ones wouldn't fill me up much more, I guess...

"You don't look like a guy who's skipped a lot of meals," I comment, halfway to myself. "I mean, how tall are you?"

"Huh? I don't know exactly..." He downs a bite of his fish. "It's not like I grew up mal... malnoo... malaprop... mala... nerd...? Uh, hungry all the time or anything. I've just been paying for my own meals since I got a job two years ago, and, uh..." He rubs the back of his neck. "For some reason my pay keeps getting cut, so that doesn't lend itself to the best diet."

I stare at him. "So... your parents...?"

"No, they're good people, pal. Don't get me wrong. They're just, uh, teaching me responsibility and all that. Can't say I enjoy it, but I can't keep spending their money all of my life." He trails off, looking at his fish.

The rest of your life, huh...?

We all go silent, engrossing ourselves in the fish instead. Mine certainly tastes bland enough, but food is food... Especially when we didn't have much of anything for lunch...

"A-anyway!" Gumshoe straightens up. "Uh, how about we catch Phoenix up a little more about the other tributes, huh?"


	24. Day 8 - Investigation

After some discussion with my allies and a good three-fourths-of-a-night's sleep, I think I've got a handle on things. I still get the feeling I'm forgetting some stuff, but the worst of the amnesia seems to be over. My headache has subsided, too, although it's still a pain.

Midmorning, we see another jabberjay. The first thing I wonder when it opens its mouth is if we'll get something from Richard or Lotta—the two in the sky last night—but I recognize a different voice right from the start.

"W.P.!"

"I'm okay! I'm okay. Just—" he's panting—"listen. Keep running... in that direction, okay? I'll catch up."

"But—"

"Go! I-I can handle this. Just get to a safe place and wait for me, okay?" A pause. "Penny!"

"O-okay! Be careful!"

"Hurry!"

I'm scribbling down Will's last line as the jabberjay seems to go silent. But I don't get to uncramp my hand for long before the bird starts up again.

"Don't want to ruin your act in front of the girl, hmm? Although I must wonder why you would bother with such a weak tribute, I suppose it helps your gentle-giant image. It's really all you have left after your injury, hmm? No matter. Let's see how kindhearted you are when your life is on the line!"

I-I recognize that voice. It's—it's—the one with the stretched-looking face... What was his name...?!

I leave a little space and transcribe that last line with a shaky hand as Will shouts. There are a few seconds of grunts, and then a low scream of agony.

"Aah!" This one's more startled than pained.

"_Fool!_"

And... that scream... is definitely pained...

There's the quietest "hmph" before the jabberjay falls silent.

"W.P..." Maya covers her mouth. "W.P...!"

Giving up on taking notes, I drop the pencil as Maya crashes into my shoulder sobbing.

I can barely even process this, but it's clear enough what happened. That was a dying scream, and the District 2 guy isn't dead.

We... have to catch him... He can't get away with this...

But... W.P...

Darn it...!

Despite the crying pounding my ears, I hear a cannon. I don't know whether it's a recording of Will's or if it belongs to someone who died just now. I don't really care. Everyone's dying, it's not fair, it's not right, we don't deserve this, and...

W.P... I will find the one who did this to you... I'll at least give _him_ what he deserves...

Somehow...

* * *

We've calmed down by lunchtime. Maggey at least is trying to stay cheerful, but we're still not facing the day with smiles all around. We do at least find some nettle plants for food before we keep moving.

We're not far from the nettle plant when I see an old blood spill on the ground ahead.

"Whoa!" I slow down, the others around me doing the same.

"T-this is...!" Gumshoe hurries ahead, looking all over. "A murder scene, pal!"

"You think so?" I follow the same path as him since it didn't seem to trigger any traps.

"Yeah." He exhales, squatting and resting his elbows on his knees. "That's definitely too much blood loss for somebody to walk away form. And over here—" he nods to his right—"there's some half-bloody footprints leading away."

I look over his shoulder. It's a little hard to recognize them as footprints—the impressions have faded, and only one shoe must have gotten blood on it—but I can definitely believe those dark crescents are what he thinks they are. A careful tread alongside them puts the stride quite a bit shorter than mine.

Maya watches. "Does that mean the killer was shorter than you, Nick?"

"Could be." I step back. "Although people's strides can change depending on what speed they're going..."

"Well, here!" Maya steps up to one of the prints and kicks off a shoe. "Let's see..." The toe of her boot hovers over the bloodstain for a while before she thunks it down on top.

"Hey!" Gumshoe turns around. "Quit messing up the evidence!"

"Eek!" Maya flinches but shakes herself. "Sorry... I'm just trying to check the shoe size."

"Oh. Well... Don't touch any of the other prints, pal! There are few enough to go on already."

"Got it."

I step up behind Maya and look over her shoe. A few flakes of dried blood peek out from under it, but it pretty much covers it up. She moves her boot down a little, and it really looks like it's about the right size.

"Huh." Maya pauses before taking her shoe back and wobbling her heel around in it until it's back on. "So it must have been someone about my size, right?" She pauses. "Are there any guys with little feet, or do you think it was a girl?"

"I didn't exactly check out everyone's shoe sizes..." I look at the print. "But this could have been Dee, right?" I turn towards Gumshoe. "Do we have any idea who the victim was?"

"Well, there's not exactly a chalk outline, pal. Or even an impression." He squints at the bloodstain and the ground around it. We're not going to be testing any blood, either."

Exhaling, I check out some of the ground by my feet. No clues here.

The faded bloodstains over there are barely recognizable as footprints. I can only make out three before they're too faint to tell.

That dried puddle of blood is pretty huge. Not much of it got dragged around, so the bleed-out was probably pretty fast.

The ground's a little dug-up next to it. It must be from the hovercraft claw.

The trees aren't that thick here, but it couldn't qualify as a clearing. There's still enough sunlight to see what's going on, though.

"Hold on. Are those glasses?" I point at them, though not without checking to see if Maggey's are still hanging on her face.

"Huh?" Gumshoe looks over at them. "You might be right, pal."

I walk to the branch they're suspended on, the others following me. The glasses are thick and squarish, the arms folded in. The branch is about the right thickness to work as a holder, but the glasses still seem pretty precisely balanced.

"Whoa! Are those the victim's? How did they get over here? There wasn't an explosion or anything, was there?" Gumshoe blinks, leaning close enough to the glasses to fog them up.

"It doesn't look like it." Maggey looks over the branch. "I bet someone put them there on purpose. Maybe before going to sleep? They look a little thick to be taken off under any other circumstances here."

"I don't see any signs of someone making a shelter here, though." I check higher up in the trees, but there aren't any suspicious nests. There's one where a jabberjay is perched, but there's nothing a tribute could use.

"You don't think he was... there, do you?" Maya points over by the big bloodstain.

"I hope not..." I pause. "He?"

"Well, those are Winston's glasses, aren't they?" Maya's hand hovers by her mouth. "And he was in the sky a few days ago, so..."

"So this was probably him," I finish quietly, resting a hand on my hip. "Cut open in his sleep."

"Say, Mr. Bird—" it's the jabberjay above us—"you're not welcome to this conversation, so why don't you... fly the coop? Hmm?"

Miss May, huh? What was she trying to hide...?

I guess I could write this down, but we're running out of room on our newspaper, and this isn't really enough to give us any clues—

"Hold it!" I gesture towards the bird. "Do you think he was here during—or just before—this murder?"

"I bet he was." Hands fisted, Maya looks up at the jabberjay. "Hey! Is that nest yours?" It doesn't respond. "Hello? H-E-L-L-O!"

I pull her back a little. "Maya, I don't think it's going to answer you..."

"The nest is probably his," says Maggey, "but since the jabberjays are always flying around, I don't think there's any way to prove that recording came from this scene, sir."

Or is there...?

I look to Maya for ideas, and she stares back at me for a second before jumping.

"Ah!" Before I realize what's going on, she's grabbed a branch and is pulling herself up.

"Hey—hey! What are you doing?" I reach after her, but she's already heading up fast. Why is she always so eager to run off...?

After a minute, she's made it to the level of the jabberjay. He doesn't fly away, even when she starts to climb out on his branch, making it shake.

Hey...!

We all watch as she crawls up to the bird.

"Hello, Mr. Jabberjay. How are you?"

It bobs its head at her. "How are you?" it repeats in her voice.

"Oh!" She claps her hands together. "I'm great, thanks!"

"What is she doing...?" I don't think Maggey is asking anyone in particular.

I sweat. "I... think I might know half of what she's doing."

Maya clings to the branch and leans a little closer to the jabberjay, who just watches her.

"Hey!" She suddenly sits up and waves down at us. "Nick! One of its wings is hurt!"

"What?" I take a step closer to the tree.

"Its right wing is bent funny. There isn't a big wound or anything, just a scar, but... I don't think it can fly."

"You probably would have scared it off by now if it could." I look at the others. "And if it hasn't been able to fly for at least a few days..."

"Then it was still here!" Maggey looks at me with glittering eyes. "Wow! You really did prove it!"

Gumshoe huffs.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I turn back to Maya. "Uh, be careful coming down, all right?"

"I know!" Maya makes her way to the trunk. "But you'll catch me if I fall, anyway."

Yeah, but... You could still afford to act somewhat cautious...

I don't take my eyes off her as I try to piece it together. "So, Miss May has definitely been here, saying something she didn't want the rest of us to hear. And Winston was killed here, in his sleep—or maybe not. All we know is that someone put his glasses up." I pause. "Maybe Miss May did that to make it seem like he was asleep when he died...?"

"You're not saying..." Gumshoe looks at me. "...she killed him?"

"And tried to cover it up." I look back at the glasses for a second. "She would have only been hiding it from other tributes since the viewers would have seen everything—her sending the jabberjay away, probably an argument, and then her attacking—"

"Hang on a second, pal!" Gumshoe pants, looking angry. "We're talking about Miss May! She wouldn't murder anybody!"

I flinch back. "I mean, it is mostly guessing, but... You have to admit she's pretty suspicious, after what we heard about Richard."

"Well..." He lifts an eyebrow. "Maybe a little bit..."

I watch Maya as she makes it to the second row of branches up.

"Why would she try to cover it up, though...?" I exhale. "Just so no one would try to pay her back? Hmm."

Maya makes it back on solid ground, and we all look around for a minute before deciding to move on. There are only so many clues we can find in one place. There is the jabberjay, but we can't get anything else out of him now, and we could always come back later. I don't know for sure if we'll be able to find out any more about Winston's death, but... we'll see.

There are still plenty of other murders to unravel if we can't...


	25. Her Death

Dee Vasquez, District 12, is the first and last face in the sky tonight. I lay reclined, staring up at the stars after she's gone. I guess we won't be asking her about who she killed. I doubt we'd get a straight answer from her, anyway... Now we just have to wonder who killed her...

I hate being so unsure. Most of the murders I haven't even started to solve, and I'm only sure about Cindy's, Dustin's, and... W.P.'s. The rest... I just don't have enough evidence. Even earlier today, when I was so sure Miss May killed Winston, I skipped over the fact that the jabberjay's recording could have been at any time before or after the murder. Nobody else caught it, but...

I bet Miles would have pointed that out...

Sighing, I shut my eyes for a second.

Can I... just sleep all night? I don't know if my mind would let me, and I'm responsible for taking at least part of a night watch, but... I just want to sleep. My eyelids are heavy, my limbs are tired, and I'm sick of all of this...

...I know. I have to keep going. I can't stop looking out for Maya or any of the others—they have to be just as tired as I am, anyway.

Chief definitely never stopped taking care of her friends, not whenever she had the chance. Did she get this exhausted and sick of it, too? I'm sure she did. She just handled it better. I wish I were that strong... I... I can at least try to be...

"Wait a second!"

Huh?

I sit up a little, looking behind me to see Maggey bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"What?" Gumshoe takes a look around before facing her with a bemused expression.

"I know a lot of terrible things have been happening, but...!" Maggey leans towards us. "A-aren't we in the final eight now?!"

"What?!" Blinking, Maya lifts her arms a little. "Really?!"

"I think so!" Maggey turns to Gumshoe. "Is that right, sir?"

Sitting, Gumshoe thinks for a minute. "I... I think so!"

"Wow!" Maggey laughs. "I never thought I would get this far... Thanks for looking out for me, you guys!" She salutes.

"Don't mention it, pal."

"And hey, you still got through a lot all by yourself!" Maya smiles. "But I have to admit, I wouldn't still be here without Nick."

"Huh?" I sit up straight.

"You know... that first trap? I would have just kept running if you hadn't spotted it. You've probably gotten me out of the way of a lot of others, too." She turns to Gumshoe, eyeing him with a grin. "And then you saved the both of us from a bunch of mutts, so I guess I have to thank you, too."

"Mutts, sir?" Maggey blinks.

"Oh. Heh heh..." Gumshoe blushes a little. "Yeah, uh... F-final eight, huh? That means they're interviewing our families, right?"

Hold it. Did he just pass up on a prime opportunity to brag?

"Yeah." Maya looks up at the sky. "I wonder if they'll be able to find my mom?"

"Find her?" I frown. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." She looks down. "Basically... Something happened, and she had to go into hiding. It was just me and my sister after that, and then... You know."

Maggey and I both look down, but Gumshoe swivels his head around.

"I know what?" he says slowly.

Nothing. Or so it seems sometimes. They were making a pretty big deal out of this during the pre-Games... I guess he wasn't paying attention.

"Her sister," I say, "was Mia Fey. A tribute from a few years ago."

"Oh... Oh! Mia?" He swallows. "She was... a beautiful person."

Maya looks up at him. "You remember her?"

"Sure." He sighs. "Everybody was rooting for her back in District 3 once our own tributes were gone. She was a darn good tribute..." He turns to the side. "Hey, what are you looking at? I just got a little dust in my eye, that's all."

I exhale, turning back towards a sniffling Maya. "You... weren't alone after that, were you?"

"Yeah." She smiles a little. "But it's okay. I got used to it, and there's nothing wrong with being independent, anyway."

Maggey frowns. "You mean they didn't send you to the orphanage, sir?"

"Huh? No." Maya leans towards her. "Don't tell anybody, but I hid in the mountains so they wouldn't."

"Um... There aren't any mountains in District 5, Maya." I pull my jacket closed.

Maya grins at me. "That's just what they want you to think."

"I'm sure it is..."

* * *

"Gooood morning!"

"Ack!" I roll over. "Uh... G-good morning..."

Ugh, it hardly feels like I slept at all last night... My headache's back with a vengeance, too.

"Get ready, sir! We're heading out in just a minute."

I slowly sit up, trying to keep my eyes open. "It's barely even dawn..."

"People are at their best first thing in the morning! Where's that fighting spirit?!"

Gosh, what has gotten into Maggey today...?

"...Sorry, but can you turn the cheeriness down. My head sort of hurts..."

"Roger that!" She salutes and steps back as I run my hands back through my hair and wobble to my feet.

"You seem... extra chipper this morning," I say before getting the water bottle from Maya and taking a drink.

Maggey nods. "I might as well be, sir. One way or another, all of us have made it this far. I think we owe it to ourselves to celebrate it today! Maybe... Well, maybe not with extra food or anything like that, but... Let's try to keep our spirits up for today! I'm sure we can do it, sir!"

That's kind of a weird idea in the middle of the Hunger Games, but... I guess making the top eight is something to celebrate. And there's nothing wrong with being happy, if we can manage it. With this group, it might not be as hard. Even though we've all lost friends here, we all still have some.

"Yup. So wakey-wakey, Nick!" Maya claps her hands. "Hurry up so we can go, you geezer."

"I'm working on it!" I shake my head, smiling. "Geez."

I manage to get it together before anyone has a fit, and then we head out. Gumshoe points out one of those blinking motion detectors hiding inside a raspberry bush. Picking anything would probably rattle the whole thing enough to trigger a trap. There goes that chance at breakfast. Kind of depressing...

"Say," I start, "my hair's not a total mess, is it?"

I feel Maya poke it towards the back. "'Total' is a strong word."

"Thanks..." With my fingertips, I carefully go over the spot where the fire extinguisher hit me. "I always check my hairdo when I look in a mirror, but there have been a shortage of them lately, so... you're the best I've got." I watch Maya for a second before shaking my head and facing to the right, where Gumshoe and Maggey are. "Actually—what do you guys think?"

"Hey!" Maya puffs out her cheeks. "I'm a perfectly good hair-checker!"

I angle my chin down and smirk. "Well, I want a second opinion."

Laughing, Maggey leans forward to look at me past Gumshoe. "Your hair looks fine, sir. A little less spiky than usual, maybe, but we are kind of living in a forest."

I turn to Maya. "See, that's a little better of a description than... not quite a total mess."

Maya pouts. "I was still right, though—"

She cuts off with a shriek as a high-pitched, metallic whirring noise cuts into the air. I freeze mid-step, but I can't can't detect the source of the screeching before Maggey falls backwards, nearly screaming enough to drown out the whirring sound.

"_Maggey__!_" shouts Gumshoe.

Only when he hurries behind her and takes her shoulders can I see the trap. A rectangular hole in the ground flashes with spinning gears, or saws, some of them spitting out blood now. The gap swallows up Maggey's calves and, judging from the scrabbling of her fingers on solid ground, threatens to pull more of her down.

Breathless, I hurry over, but Gumshoe has already dragged her out of and away from the trap before I can help him. Maggey is now stretched out on her back, clawing at the ground, screaming enough to choke herself. Her shoes and socks are completely gone, along with a good chunk of her pants legs... and... There's blood everywhere. It's hard to tell exactly how much damage she's taken, but her shins and calves are thoroughly shredded and disfigured, her feet barely looking like feet at all.

"Maggey! Maggey...!" Panting, Gumshoe looks rapidly between her face, her legs, and us. "W-what do we...?!"

"I—" Breaths shaky, I kneel down next to her. The pool of blood at her legs is only growing, and her screaming is starting to quiet down. "W-we could... make a tourniquet?"

Maya's already crying next to me.

"But she could lose her legs, pal!"

"I..." Maggey chokes, looking up at him with a faint smile. "I-I think I already lost my legs, sir."

"Ngh!" Gumshoe gasps before pulling off his shoulder bag and dumping the contents on the ground. Fumbling through the supplies until he finds a pair of scissors, he grabs a spare shirt. He only tries to cut at it for a second before ripping it into strips. He hurls the rest of the shirt at Maya before he starts wrapping a strip around Maggey's right leg.

"What are you waiting for?!" Still cranking the fabric around, he glares at Maya. "Get her other leg! _Now!_"

Maya whimpers, turning the remains of the shirt over in her shaking hands before she turns to me, panic in her eyes.

"H-here." I take the shirt. "I'll take care of this. Just—" I try to start tearing—"k-keep an eye out for donations, okay?"

Sniffing, Maya nods and scoots back.

I struggle to get the fabric in condition before I carefully pull the end of the strip across the back of her knee and start winding.

"You're going to be fine, Maggey," pants Gumshoe, finishing up with his cloth and grabbing the nearest stick to twist in it. "Just hang on, okay?" He starts to twist the stick, and he cringes when she gasps in pain. "It's okay, pal... I-it's okay..."

As he turns to growl at me for not going fast enough, Maggey gets out a quiet, choking laugh.

"I... thought it would e-end like this... Since I triggered the f-first trap..."

"End like this...? Hey! Don't talk like that, pal!" Hand still on the tourniquet, Gumshoe shakes her shoulder a little. "I-I just said, you'll be fine! And you will!"

"I don't know, sir..." She shivers. "I a-already... feel pretty faint..."

"But you're still with us! Y-you can be a little faint. It's all right..." His gaze slides over to the blood on the ground, and he shakes.

"M-Maya." I look over my shoulder at her. "Did we get anything?"

Not looking me in the eye, she shakes her head.

I exhale, turning back to my tourniquet. "That's all right..." I don't know what would do much good at this point, anyway. Some painkillers at least...? But I guess those would cost a lot by this point. And Maggey... seems to have slipped far enough she can't feel all of it anymore.

"But... a-after Dustin died, I thought... I would end up dying alone..." She smiles, shaking. "But I-I'm so glad I ran into you guys... That... I can be s-surrounded by you instead..."

"Maggey...! Stop talking like this! You're not dying!" Choking, he grips her shoulder. "Just hang in there, and—No! Don't' close your eyes! D-don't you dare close your eyes!"

With a short moan, she opens her eyes again and smiles up at him, breathing shallowly. "Sorry... I know how hard you've been looking out for me... T-thank you... pal."

He freezes as she turns her head towards us. She's pale and barely breathing, but she still maintains a faint smile.

"I..." It's hard for me to speak at this point, but I put a hand on her shoulder. "I-I'm glad we could be friends with you, too..." Squeezing my eyes shut, I barely even try to listen for a response. I don't know if she can even give one.

Maya's sobbing, somewhere to my right. "Maggey..."

Daring to crack my eyelids open, I look back at Maggey's face. She may be mouthing something, but I can't read her lips. Her eyes are shut, but Gumshoe seems too paralyzed to do anything about it.

I think he and I both can feel her go limp before the cannon fires.

"No, no, no." Choking, he jostles her shoulder. "Maggey...! Maggey!"

I let my hand slide off her as Maya collapses sobbing. Even the trap goes silent as the hovercraft appears above us. The claw doesn't come down yet.

"H-hey." My voice breaks. "Gumshoe. I-I think we need to move away a little bit..."

"But...!" He snaps his gaze up to me, glaring for a moment before he looks down at Maggey and slumps. "But..."

Exhaling choppily, I push myself to my feet. My legs feel too weak to support me, but I wander around to Maggey's other side and pull back on Gumshoe's shoulder. "Come on... They have to s-send her back to her family..."

He wobbles for a second, and I wonder if he's about to fall over. But he finally lets out a sob and scoots back.

I stumble over to get Maya farther away—I think she's out cold—and then the claw comes down, picking up the tribute who made it to eighth place and carrying her away.


	26. Echoes

"C-come on." Maya takes my wrist and tugs on my arm. "Can we at least go find some food?"

I sigh, rubbing my forehead with my free hand without getting up. "That's a good idea..."

"C-cheer up!" Still tugging my arm, Maya tries to smile. "We're... We're supposed to be celebrating today, remember?"

I watch her for a second before looking down. "I appreciate it, Maya, but... I don't think I can."

Her thin veneer of cheer fades away until she's looking down, too. "Yeah... It's not really possible anymore, is it...?"

I shake my head.

She sits down next to me, and I put an arm over her shoulders. She hugs me before slumping back.

"Gumshoe...?" I start, looking over at him. He's still curled up, his arms around his folded legs and his chin on his knees. "Are you... doing okay?"

He doesn't look up. "I don't like this place. Can I go home?"

Exhaling, I lean against Maya a little. "Not anytime soon, I don't think."

He doesn't reply.

Trying not to start crying again, I look around. No one seems to be approaching us. I don't see any food around here, either. The place reeks of blood. There's still a huge puddle by the trap, and a few splashes around its other sides. The gears and things are still visible—I don't know if it will shut up again. I might never know if we could have noticed the trapdoor there. I'm sure it was well-hidden, at least.

The trees are thicker around here. This is pretty much a corridor. I would expect a few good traps to be in here... But then again, they're pretty much everywhere.

I'm not sure how long we sit here before a jabberjay lands in a branch overhead.

"This dadgum camera ain't working right... I'll never get a shot of that lake mutt at this rate. Hmph. Maybe I'll be able to get a good look with my own two eyes next time it comes."

...Not much to get from that. It was Lotta, so that happened at least a couple of days ago. And there's a mutt in one of the ponds. Not really anything worth noting.

I wonder if the mutt got her. Maybe we can find the right pond—but we'll have to be careful. Yeah. Once we feel like running around again...

* * *

By evening, we just decide to walk back to our shelter from last night. It's a little too big now...

Gumshoe peeks inside while it's still light. Ducking back out, he watches us for a second before asking, "Which spot did Maggey sleep in?"

Maya and I exchange a look.

"I don't know." I clasp my hands together. "She probably switched around between watches... Or did she have the last one last night?"

"Yeah, she took the early morning watch." Maya looks down. "I don't remember where she was sleeping, though."

"Hmph!" Gumshoe frowns and goes back into the shelter, shuffling around for a minute before he comes back out and, with a roar, slams his foot into a tree.

"Eek!" Maya dodges a shower of leaves as I flinch and look up at Gumshoe, who's panting hard.

"G-Gumshoe! What are you doing?" You could have triggered a trap with that!

Still not looking too calm, he glares at the tree. "There's nothing left, pal. Nothing!"

"What...?" I lean back a little.

"Mr. Edgeworth at least left behind some notes in his own handwriting. But Maggey—we don't have _anything_ left from her. I-it's like she was never even here!"

"That—" I stand up—"that's not true." She... certainly left a lot behind where she died, but I don't think that's what he wants to hear.

"Yeah." Maya pulls on my arm until she's made it to her feet. "Maybe there's nothing left to look at, but we know she was here. We're never going to forget, either. And that's the important part, right? She didn't leave behind any notes or things, but she still left a big impression on our hearts."

Gumshoe slumps. "Y-yeah... But I wish..." Sighing, he shakes his head and sits down.

I watch him for a second before turning away. "Yeah..."

We fade into a sad silence and stay there for a while. Then a jabberjay arrives. Mechanically, I get out the newspaper clipping and take Gumshoe's pencil without asking. He doesn't seem to notice.

So the handwriting at the top of this definitely belongs to Miles...

"You listen when I'm talking to you!" The shriek can only be Wendy's.

It's followed by silence.

"...I'm watching the clouds."

"Whippersnapper!" There's no response from the other girl before she continues. "You're just going to ignore me this whole time?!"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I'm watching the clouds. I'm not interested in talking to you."

Wendy shouts in rage. I can practically see her expression, whites of her eyes and all.

"Hmm?" The other girl still sounds unimpressed. Is it Dee?

"Feel like talking now?"

A sigh. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes! Now, tell me about Jack, or I will take you down!"

"Hmph." Yeah, this is definitely Dee. Who else wouldn't be the least bit rattled facing a raging Oldbag? "...He was your district partner."

"I know that much, whippersnapper!"

"You should phrase your requests more carefully. After all, you claim to already know that I killed him. What new information do you hope to get from me?"

So Wendy thinks Dee killed Jack... She must have overheard the conversation with Sal, and... maybe some of ours? We were certainly chopping down the list of possible victims... Was Jack the only one left?

"A confession would be nice," hisses Oldbag.

"Confess what? That I killed him? How could I? You said yourself only Powers was strong enough to overpower him. I'm obviously quite a bit weaker."

"Well, I was mistaken! Not everyone here gets killed by someone with a higher score."

Dee pauses for a moment. "Perhaps not. Tell me, do you know anything about what Jack was doing during the bloodbath?"

"Getting supplies, of course! Food, weaponry—"

"What kind of weaponry?"

"I... I wasn't watching the whole time, whippersnapper! And he was... gone before I saw what he had on him."

An exhale. "He had a large spear."

"H-hold it! How do you know that?!"

"I have a tendency to pay attention to such things when my life is in danger."

"Oh. But—! You admit he was close to you!"

"Relatively." She sighs. "But you respect my testimony? That it's reasonable he was holding a spear?"

"Of course! Jack could wield any weapon with ease! I don't see why he wouldn't take a spear if it was close to him."

"That's all, then."

"What?! E-excuse me! What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it was impossible for me to have killed him. Big guy like that, armed with a hefty spear? I'm hardly foolish enough to try to attack someone like that. Likewise, it would have been impossible for me to defend myself. Or are you suggesting that I could wrench the spear out of his hands and stab him with it?"

"N-no, but..."

A sigh. "I think we're finished here. I saw Jack a bit before his death, and it was impossible for me to have killed him. If you'd kindly stop waving that knife in my face, I'll return to my own business and leave you to yours. I think we've wasted enough time on this."

It... sounds like she's avoiding something. Maybe she just wants to get away from Oldbag, but...

"U-ugh!" Wendy sounds like she's struggling for words—strange thought—but she doesn't come up with anything.

Just when I'm sure the recording is over, another voice rings out.

"Objection!"

Nearly dropping the pencil, I snap my gaze up to the jabberjay. Maya and Gumshoe look up, too.

"E-Edgey-boy?! You've come to help me...!"

W-wait, but... When was this?! I never heard this... Edgeworth never mentioned this happening before he met Gumshoe... But he wasn't alive that long—when did Oldbag change her mind about Will? What... What's going on here...?!

"Oh..." Wendy suddenly sounds disappointed. "Oh, it's just... W-whippersnapper! You get away from here!"

Another jabberjay...? Within the recording?

Dee quietly clears her throat. "May I go now?"

A huff. "...No! No, you may not!"

"I already told you everything. What do you expect to gain by talking to me longer?"

"I..." Oldbag pants. "I want to hear what exactly you were doing the whole time! From seeing Jack up to his cannon blasting!"

"Hmph. You understand the Games were just starting? I was rather full of adrenaline, so I can't recall every bit of it."

"Fine! Just tell me everything you remember!"

Dee sighs. "When the gong rang, I went for a full, carabiner water bottle some distance ahead. Sal was quite a bit behind me by then. I nearly tripped over something, but I still got the bottle. A cannon blew for someone. That's when I saw Jack with the spear. He was coming in my direction, so I ran. Sal kept up a little better that time. The pair of cannons sounded a while after I was outside the circle of starting plates. The end."

There's a pause.

"Is that sufficient? May I go?"

"N-no!" Wendy huffs. "What—what was it that you tripped over?"

"A sickle. The blade was sticking up, so I scratched my leg a bit." I assume she gestures to the cut. "Any other pointless details you'd like to know?"

"I... I... Ooh!" Wendy huffs and puffs for a minute, likely not lowering her knife. "H... H-hold it, whippersnapper! If you got such a nice water bottle, where is it now?"

"I... lost it. Dropped it along the way. When there are so many things to flee from around here, it's a common occurrence."

She...! She didn't sound so sure about that! Keep pressing, Wendy...!

"Didn't you say it had a carabiner clip? It's a little hard to just lose something like that—there's plenty of loops on our outfits to hang it off of! And—and none of yours look torn up!"

Dee inhales sharply.

"Ha! You never had that water bottle, did you, whippersnapper? You went for it, but you dropped it when Jack came for you!" She waits for a second, definitely smirking. "Or did you just drink up the whole thing along with the water inside? Hmm?"

"I... certainly didn't 'drink it up,' no. But even if I did drop the bottle before I left, how does that make any difference? Even with two hands free, I wouldn't have stood a chance against Jack."

"Well, you... You're stronger than you look! You got the spear out of his hands and stabbed him with it!"

"Hmph! Didn't you already say that was impossible? You may want to rethink your accusations."

"I mean... I mean...! Whippersnapper!"

Uh-oh. I think she's running out of ideas. But there's still one thing...

"You..." Wendy huffs. "You picked up that sickle and got him with it!"

Dee pauses. "He was looking right at me. Using a different weapon doesn't change the situation. I still wouldn't have been able to overpower him."

"But..." Oldbag exhales. "Okay. You didn't stab him. You weren't strong enough to."

"See? I told you I was innocent. What a waste of time for the both of us."

Wendy growls. "But it doesn't take as much strength to knock him off-balance!"

"What?!"

"You saw him coming for you, too fast for you to run away and too far from Manella to call him in to help. So you dropped your water bottle and defended yourself the only way you could—you pushed him at the right angle and knocked him off-balance! And poor Jack... Poor, poor Jack... fell right onto that sickle!"

There's such a long pause I wonder why the jabberjay still has its beak open.

"...You're smarter than you look, Wendy." Dee exhales. "Hmph. I lose. You win. It... was fun."

Oldbag swallows. "So you really did kill my Jack..."

"...Yes. I am guilty. It was me." Dee sighs. "You have your confession. Are you happy now?"

"M-my Jack..."

"That's all I have to say. I think I'll be leaving now."

"...No."

"E-excuse me?"

"No. You're... You're not going to be leaving!"

Wendy... no...

"...I was only acting in self-defense. It's nothing to kill me over..."

"It's... it's not, really." This is the quietest I've heard Oldbag's voice. "But... there aren't many of left now. If I'm going to have to start killing tributes... I might as well do it in Jack's memory."

"You—!"

The jabberjay cuts off, watching us for a moment before flying away.


	27. Obstacles

Maya and I decide to take all of the watches ourselves tonight. We don't really expect Gumshoe to get to sleep, but he might not be the best watch tonight. No reason to saddle him with the responsibility, anyway. Maya and I haven't exactly recovered, but he's definitely been hit the hardest. I guess he watched both of the people he was trying the hardest to protect die...

Once the single-person death toll is over, I usher Maya and Gumshoe into the shelter and start my watch.

So... that was Dee's story today, huh? She killed Jack in self-defense... and was killed for it.

Wendy... She wasn't the kind of person I'd want to run into all of the time, but it's still a little hard to believe she'd kill someone like that... I guess I don't have any solid proof that she did kill Dee, but it still seems obvious. Half out of revenge, half out of competition. It would be enough to drive a person to kill. That's what the Hunger Games do.

It's hard to say just who is responsible for the murders here. It would be easy to put all of the blame on the Gamemakers for forcing us into such a situation... but we do still choose whether we kill other tributes or not. We're not given a very good choice, granted... But it's still there.

At the same time, we can't pin all the blame on the murderers. How many of us would ever kill a person if we weren't reaped? And then how many of us have, in the course of the Games? I'm pretty confident the number isn't the same.

It's... It's just not right. I know that's obvious, but... it really isn't. It seems like that means I should be stopping this, but what am I supposed to do? Especially from inside the arena. Chief sure didn't put an end to her Games, even with all of the good she did. I would need help from the outside...

The escort...?

But it's hard to fight from the outside, too—that's the only reason we've gotten past the first Hunger Games. It's hard to imagine what exactly it would take to break the whole system down. People both inside and outside of the arena... A lot of planning... Some way to communicate...

I think through the donations we've gotten, but they've only ever been food. Not arranged in certain ways. Not arriving at certain times, aside from lunch- or dinnertime. I'm sure the escort would have left some sort of clues if he had a plan for us...

He probably doesn't. I'm not going to give up hope entirely, but... It's late in the game. The system is solid. The Gamemakers have plenty of ways to kill us if we don't turn on each other. There's no reason to just sit here hoping. We need to keep ourselves alive and protect each other, and if we can find a way out, we'll take it. If we can't... Well, then we can't. It's terrible, but that's all I can say.

At least Maya's still around. I guess, with all of the traps, I really have helped her out here. That's good to know. Are you glad, Chief? It must be bad enough to see her here in the first place, but... She's still safe, knock on wood. I'll do my best to keep it that way.

* * *

I wake up on my own in the morning. Not much light gets through the shelter roof, but I can tell from the glowing entryway that it's probably about time to get up.

Once I'm outside, I can see where Maya's sitting. She's hunched over with her back to me, and she doesn't respond to her name.

"Maya?" I try again, hurrying around in front of her. She's definitely still breathing, but her face is contorted with focus as she grips her necklace nearly hard enough to crush it. Her hands shake for a moment before she exhales, slouching and opening her eyes. It takes her a second to lock her gaze on me.

"Um, good morning."

"Morning." I sit down. "What are you doing?"

"Oh..." She casts a glance back at the shelter. "I was... seeing if I could reach Maggey."

"Reach her...?"

She rests her hands in her lap. "Her spirit. But... I couldn't. I'm still only a spirit medium in training, so I didn't really think I could channel her, but..."

"A..." I try not to stare at her. "A spirit medium?"

"In training." She gives a little nod. "The Fey family, especially the women, have always been very sensitive to the spirit world."

"Wait a second—" I put my hands on my knees—"you said the 'Fey Family'? So, Mia was into this stuff, too?"

"Of course! Her powers were first class, too!" She looks down at her hands.

I... had no idea. Chief never mentioned anything like this. I didn't know much about her family, but...

"But... I still can't do anything." She sighs. "I thought, maybe, if I could channel Maggey for a little bit, it could help at least Gumshoe feel a little better... but I guess it just isn't going to happen. I'm too weak." She hangs her head. "I just want to help..."

"No—i-it's okay." I put an arm over her shoulders. "Don't worry about it."

She continues to look down. "...I want to do something, though. I—" she faces me teary-eyed—"Gumshoe was counting on me to help Maggey, and I did nothing! Even—even you knew I wasn't going to get the tourniquet put together fast enough..." She looks down again. "We didn't stop the bleeding fast enough, and now she's gone. And I didn't do a thing to help."_  
_

"That—that's not true!" I shake her until she looks back at me. "You were her friend. She was glad to have you around, and, in the end, you helped her just by being there. Maybe it didn't seem like much, but it meant a lot to her."

"Yeah..." Maya looks to the side. Obviously I haven't quite eased her mind.

"But, hey! Whenever we need someone to eat extra food, you're our girl!"

She watches me silently for a second. "...Heh..."

"Huh? M-Maya? Was that a... chuckle?"

"What? N-no!" She pauses and sighs. "It wasn't very believable, was it?"

Not really...

She looks down. "I-I'm sorry! I just thought, since you'd made a joke... Please, don't mind me! You're doing just fine!"

Who's trying to cheer up who here?!

Before I can figure out a better way to go about this, a rustling comes from the shelter behind us.

Maya turns around. "Gumshoe!" Her gaze drops. "Um, good morning."

He pauses. "Good morning." Squinting up at the sun, he shrugs off his overcoat, scowls at it in his hands, and crams it into his bag.

"Did you get any sleep?" I stretch a little bit.

"A little, pal. Are we heading out again today?"

I watch Maya, who just stares back at me.

"We probably should." I don't know if I can take another night of this same place with Maggey missing. "There certainly aren't any more edible plants in the area."

"Good point." Maya looks up at the tree branches. "And there are still murder scenes and jabberjays to find, right?"

"Right." I nod. "But only if you don't mind, Gumshoe...?"

"It's fine with me, pal." He sighs and gets to his feet. "Let's... keep our eyes peeled, huh?"

"Yeah." I get up and help Maya to her feet, and then we set out.

* * *

When we stop to get water, a jabberjay starts talking, but it's only a repeat of Miss May's conversation with Wellington. A second hearing doesn't bring anything else to light.

We move on, though at none too fast a pace. Gumshoe insists on taking the lead, and he spends enough time peering at the grass and other flora we could probably sit for a while between each step. I see no reason to stop him, though. It's a little tedious, but I guess we could afford to be more careful.

We all jump when a squirrel darts in front of us, but I haven't gotten a knife in hand before it's back in the trees.

Thankfully, I already have a knife ready when the red fox runs across after him. The blade spins twice before hitting the fox in the chest. It stumbles, and I hurry to get another knife ready and thrown before it's too late. I manage it, and the fox lies there dead in a few moments.

It looks to be in good shape, and it's pretty big. Not a bad catch.

I step ahead carefully and pick it up by the scruff. "Good thing it was right in front of me." I smile at the others. "What luck, huh?"

Silence.

My expression fades as I lower the meal-to-be.

..."Luck." After Maggey left the group, we get a stroke of good luck. Good job pointing that out, genius. You should just stop talking...

"Here," I start, shifting the weight of the fox between both of my arms, "let's find another stream or something before we try to eat this. Wouldn't want to dehydrate ourselves too much."

"Good idea." Maya steps up next to me and smiles. "This should make a good meal, too, right, Nick?"

"Yeah, for all of us." I look over at Gumshoe.

He manages to drag one corner of his mouth up. "Well, nothing wrong with a little meat, pal. Let's find us that water."

I nod, smiling back, and we set off again. The pace is a little more reasonable now, although we're still watching our steps.

Our stomachs are already rumbling at the thought of fox steak. The thing certainly doesn't smell that appetizing at the moment, but it's been some time since we've had an appreciable amount of meat. In the face of everything that's happened, this still isn't much, but it's at least a little pick-me-up—

A sudden clanging sound fills the air, and we all freeze, looking at each other and the forest around us.

I didn't step on anything. It doesn't look like anyone else did, either. I don't see any unnatural lines in the ground, or motion detectors, or anything suspicious...

...Except for those metal pillars rising from the grass. Pyramidal, they poke up, pushing aside tufts of grass, and continue to come up until they all clunk to a stop.

I don't think the ground was dug up for them—or it was at least disguised really well—but the Gamemakers have access to the entire underground area in the Launch Room, so these may have never been above the surface in the first place—maybe some sort of underground weight sensor triggered them—whatever they are...

Taking a deep breath, I look over them again. They're spaced at about two-meter intervals, and they surround us in a circle.

But...

What are they...?


	28. Not Talking

We still haven't moved out of our little fenced circle, but I decide to prepare the fox meat, anyway. We still have a lot in our water bottles, so I'm sure eating won't hurt much...

"Are they... doing anything?" Maya takes two steps closer to one of the pillars and scrutinizes it.

"Maybe not right now, but I wouldn't get any closer if I were you." I look up at her.

"Right." She glances at the fox. "Is it too early to start getting wood together?"

"No, go ahead. Stay inside the... barrier, of course."

"Okay." She hurries to a half-dead bush towards the east side of the circle, and Gumshoe goes after her to help.

There aren't any trees on this side of the pillars, and no branches reach across towards us, either. We're not going to be climbing up and out of here. We could probably try to dig, but there's no telling how far down the pillars go—or if making us dig is the point in the first place. The pillars could be harmless and just there to trick us into planning a dangerous escape.

Or they could kill us as soon as we step through them.

Stopping my work on the fox for a moment, I look over the closest pillar. It's basically smooth on all sides, except for a few scratches. Would coming up through the ground be enough for that? What kind of metal is it, anyway?

...But I'm not sure how knowing that would help me out here, so I go back to skinning the fox. It's a little too silent, though, so, in lieu of trying too hard to lighten things up...

"I wonder why we haven't heard anything from Violet," I start.

"Huh?" Maya blinks. "We haven't?"

I shake my head.

Setting down a few branches, she halfway folds her arms. "Maybe she just hasn't been talking much?"

"This is Violet we're talking about, you know..." I sweat. "I doubt she passes up many opportunities to show off her... interesting vocabulary."

"That's true." Maya watches a beetle crawl over her shoe.

"Maybe she doesn't have anybody to talk to, pal."

"You think she's alone?" I don't know if anyone would tolerate her long enough to be her ally, but she could probably force people into it.

"It would make sense, right?" Gumshoe says.

"I guess..." I step over a protruding root. "At the same time, I don't think there are jabberjays within hearing range of every tribute at all times. Or she could have been killing every one she saw. That would be a little weird, though..." I wipe some dampness off my hands. "Unless she just doesn't realize how useful they are to listen to."

Maya shrugs, picking at the bush again. "Who knows?"

"Yeah..." I get back to cutting at the fox.

All in all, we haven't really heard that much from the jabberjays. Nothing from probably half of the tributes. I guess if some of them didn't recognize the birds, they could be killing them for meat. Hmm.

I'm focusing so much on fox guts that I don't hear the other tribute coming until Maya nudges me. Still some distance away but hopping close is April May herself. Well, I can't see her face yet, but her bright pink hair gives her away pretty well. It's in suspiciously good condition after over a week in the arena. Maybe she has a comb in her backpack...

"Yoo-hoo!" Coming closer, she waves an arm at us. Still playing innocent, it seems.

Well. As "innocent" as she gets.

"Miss May!" Gumshoe takes a step towards her.

"The one and only." Winking, she comes to a stop not far from the pillars, just where we can all have a good view of her. She's a little bruised and scratched, but it doesn't look like she's been starving. She also seems to be wearing short shorts now, although I somehow doubt it's because the rest of her pants were damaged. "How are the handsome fellows doing today? And you, too, Maya?"

"Uh... We're doing all right." I sweat. Is this a trick question? Is she asking about my head injury? Does she know I know it was her idea?

Looking at her again, it's kind of hard to imagine her killing anyone. At the same time... The girl's a mystery. Tries to make you pay so much attention to her chest you don't notice anything else about her. Ugh...

She twists her right leg a little so her toes point in. "That's good to hear."

Gumshoe frowns at her. "How about you, pal?"

"Oh, how nice of you to ask..." She juts out her lower lip, and her eyes start to tear up. "This place is terrible! I feel so dirty, and alone, and I don't have anything to eat..."

"We saw a squirrel go that way," Maya offers, pointing to her left.

Miss May follows her finger but shakes her head and looks down, rubbing at her eyes. "It's useless. I can't catch anything."

"Then how have you made it this far in the Games?" I put a hand to my chin.

Miss May looks up, although she doesn't lower her balled fists. "I got some food from the Cornucopia, and my sponsors have been taking care of me. But I guess the money's running out." She seems to notice the meat in my hands quite suddenly. "Oh! What's that?"

"A fox," I sigh. "Definitely not Capitol food." Like you've probably been getting. I can't say I'm not jealous.

If she isn't lying about that. It's a little hard to determine if anything she says is true.

"You," I start before she can ask for any of our food, "said you were alone, huh? Have you had any allies?"

She watches me. "W-what kind of question is that? Are you just trying to be mean?"

"Was the answer supposed to be obvious?!" I gulp. Feeling alone doesn't mean she was alone the whole time, and we know she at least ran into other tributes...

"I mean... we did hear you talking to Wellington." Better not bring up the more suspicious clip. "Joking about him tugging on his scarf all of the time."

"Oh?" She smiles. "Yes, I remember that." She puts a finger to her chin. "That was... Oh, not too far into things. I only saw him for a little bit before we parted ways."

"How long is 'a little bit'?"

"How am I supposed to remember every little detail?" She rubs at her eyes. "I... It was only a few minutes."

I put my palms to the ground. "So you ran into him again later?"

"Huh? No. I don't know what you're talking about. Are you just trying to distract me from your food? Mean spiky-head!"

She's the one trying to distract us. She's obviously avoiding the part about seeing him again...

Wait a second...! She didn't kill him, did she?! We haven't found a scene, but... if she just choked him, not much would be left behind, anyway...

"Hold it!" I point at her. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about!"

She smiles, but the corner of her mouth twitches. "W-what?"

I put my hands down again. I didn't want to bring this up, but if she's not talking...

"We heard another conversation you had with him!" I reach into my bag and present the newspaper clipping. "The transcript is right here. You were trying to turn him against us, weren't you? Telling him we were onto him killing Dustin when in fact we hadn't said a thing about it!"

"Urk!" Her left eyelid twitches.

"Well?" I watch her evenly. "Do I have to read it back to you, Miss May?"

"N-no! I don't... You're not... It isn't... Ooorgh!" She thrusts her arms down and roars. "What's it to you, porcupine-head?!" She snarls down at us with a contorted expression that is anything but flattering. "That stupid piece of paper doesn't matter, okay?!"

Paralyzed by her glare, I can only stare back at her as she breathes heavily. But then she starts to relax.

"Oh? Oh! Oh hoh ho! Silly me!" She grunts before shaking her head and smiling again. "Did I, um, like... lose it? I guess I did. Tee hee!" She winks.

S-scary...

"Anyway!" She bends her wrists up by her collarbone again. "I don't know what you're talking about, so... Can I have some of the meat?"

You expect me to start talking about the _meat_ after that?!

"Hold on just a second!" I flick my fingers back against the newspaper. "You gave Wellington a plan for attack and everything! Waiting until I was on watch so he could take care of 'Spiky-Head' whether or not he could get to the rest of the alliance in time! But Wellington failed, didn't he? He didn't even give me anything more than a headache!"

I lean towards her. "And what happened to him the day after the attack, Miss May?"

"Hey, guess what?" She smiles sweetly. "Actually, I, um, really hate your guts. I don't think I'm talking to you anymore."

"Hey, now." Gumshoe holds up his hands. "Let's not get too worked up here, pal. We're just curious, all right?"

"Mmph." She scowls before quickly going back to her smile. "Well, Miss May doesn't like nosey little tributes."

"Tell you what, pal." Gumshoe folds his arms and gives her a lopsided smile. "Give us the whole story with you and Wellington, and we'll give you a cut of the fox."

"But..." She rubs at her eyes. "You wouldn't make me starve if I don't would you?"

"Hey, we're hungry, too." I look down at the meat. It's probably enough for the four of us, honestly, so I can't say I object to Gumshoe's idea. Nothing wrong with a trade-off.

Miss May growls but goes back to smiling. "How about... no?" She winks. "I'm clearly not going to cooperate, so how about I take the meat, and you leave me alone?"

I sweat. "I... don't think that's a fair trade."

"Too bad, because that's what we're going to do! Tee hee!"

Without moving her arms, she starts to trot towards us.

"W-wait!" Maya jumps up. "Don't come any closer!"

Miss May pauses. "Oh? Oh hoh ho! Are you scared I'm going to steal your district partner away from you? Don't worry." She snarls at me, "I have no interest in him."

Well, I have no interest in _you_. Not... like that, at least.

"You should stop where you are, though." I swallow. "It's dangerous to come any closer!" We think.

"Of course you would say that." She sneers at me. "You stinking porcupine!"

"Uh—!" I reach out a hand like it's going to stop her, and Gumshoe seems to get enough of a handle on the situation to start stammering at her, too. But she crosses between two of the pillars.

A crash like lightning buzzes as crooked streaks of electricity attack her from both sides. Locked in place but trembling, she doesn't get the chance to scream before a cannon fires. The short shots of lightning flicker away, and she falls to the ground, still convulsing a little and smoking.

And I can't do anything but stare at the corpse until the hovercraft claw takes her away.


	29. Escape Plan

The three of us are still silent when the birds resume their chirping. But there's no point in staring at the spot where Miss May used to be. We know all too well what happened to her.

Resolving to resume work on the fox meat, I force myself to breathe and drop my gaze to my hands. I'm still holding the newspaper clipping, so I start to toss it to the side—

_HIGHVOLTAGE_

Freezing, I pull the paper back in front of me and look over the disguised letters. High voltage, possibility of damage to equipment, take appropriate precautions.

I'm pretty sure that was some high voltage just then...

"Nick?" Still shivering, Maya watches me. "What is it?"

"I... I think this—" I flick the paper—"is referring to this trap. High voltage—sounds right. Possibility of damage to equipment, take appropriate precautions..."

Maya rests one cheek on her hand. "What equipment? The pillars?"

"Could be." I scoot the tiniest bit closer to one of the pillars that went off. "It doesn't look damaged, though, and I'd say that was a pretty hard hit."

"Maybe the engineers already took the precautions, then?" Maya suggests.

"I guess so." Exhaling, I start to put away the clipping but pause. "But... why would we need to know that? Why give such a statement to the tributes?"

I peer at the words again. "If the pillars weren't damaged by that, they probably weren't the 'equipment' in the warning. So... Something that we would be carrying? Of course it would damage a lot of our things just by heating them up too much, but..." I straighten up and rub my forearm. "The tracker chip, maybe? All tributes have that... But then again, that malfunctioning would be the last of my worries if I step through there."

I sigh, frowning at my scribbles on the clipping's margin. "So, what equipment—"

Wait—!

N-no. No...

"Phoenix? Something wrong, pal?"

"I... Ugh!" Lowering my chin, I put my free hand to my forehead. "I'm sorry. I should have realized it earlier."

I shake my head and sit up, looking over at the two of them. "The hovercraft claw. They shut down the electricity when it came down! We could have gotten out safely if we had run through while the claw was there—that was the point of this clipping—but I didn't figure it out in time. And now we're stuck here."

"I-it's okay!" Maya scoots over and jiggles my elbow. "Don't worry about it..."

"Yeah," Gumshoe jumps in. "So we missed one chance. We'll get another one, right, pal? Somebody else could come in through there." He looks to the side. "Hopefully one of the meaner ones..."

With a sigh, I look at the pillars. "Yeah. Hopefully."

* * *

Two days and very little donated water later, I'm not so sure that this is going to work out. No other tributes have come near us, and, now that I think about it, it wouldn't be too easy to convince one of them to get over here. April may have not realized the danger, but the pillars are still suspicious, and if someone comes by, they might be more prone to try throwing things at us than charging in full-force.

And all that is only if someone comes along. It's a pretty big arena, and if they're taking care to avoid traps, they aren't moving too quickly. I'm starting to think we'll dehydrate to death before anyone else makes it over here.

Surely there's another way to get out, but I haven't found it. None of the pillars look any different than the rest, so I have no reason to think there are any weak spots in the barrier. The pillars are just tall enough we can't hope to somehow throw each other over the top of them—and that might not be any less dangerous than walking between them, anyway. The ground is too full of roots for any useful amount of digging. If we can't go through, over, or under... how are we supposed to get past these things?

We could try to break them somehow, but rocks and slimy fox skins alike haven't left an impact or even triggered a zap. Likewise, we're not going to be short-circuiting any of it if it doesn't go off for anything inanimate.

I... just can't see how we're supposed to get out of here. I... can't give up, but... I can already feel my mind slipping a little from the dehydration... I don't know if I'll be able to come up with anything different... Anything that would work...

I don't notice Gumshoe getting to his feet until he puts his nightstick in his supply bag and weighs it in his hands.

"Gumshoe? What are you doing?"

"Huh?" He looks down at me. "Oh, just trying to figure out which of you'll end up carrying this. It's heavier than the other one, so you should probably take it yourself, pal."

"What...?" I slowly get to my feet as he sets the back down. After the wave of dizziness passes, I watch him evenly. "What are you talking about...?"

He blinks. "What, did you want to make Maya carry the heavier one?"

"What? No..." I glance at Maya, who's lying down but not asleep. "I mean... Why wouldn't you be carrying it? Wait—we're not going anywhere. Why would anyone be carrying..." I trail off, staring at him. "No."

"Huh?!" He leans back. "What do you mean, no?"

I can feel myself shaking. "I mean no. Sit back down, Gumshoe. You're not trying to walk through the barrier."

"Why not, pal?" At this point, Maya has sat up, but he doesn't acknowledge her. "You want to keep starving in here?"

"Well, no, but..." I shake my head. "I don't want you to _die_! And you do realize that trying to go through there would _kill_ you!" He's a little thick-headed, but I think he should understand that much.

"Well... yeah." He quirks an eyebrow, flicking his gaze to the side. "But if I don't, we're all going to die, right? No point in letting that happen, pal."

"Maybe, but... We don't know! Someone else can still come along!"

Gumshoe sighs. "But how soon, pal? We've already been waiting a long time. We have to do something before we're all too weak to put up a fight once we're out."

"But...!" I clench my teeth.

Maya stands suddenly. "Let me do it!"

Nearly choking in shock, I jump. "What?! No!"

Gumshoe doesn't look any more calm about this. "No way!" He pants. "It's me or nobody, pal!"

"Why?" Maya fists her hands. "I can take a few steps over there just as well as anybody else! And... And both of you actually have a chance at winning. Nick, you're smart enough, and, Gumshoe, you're strong enough. I..." She looks down. "There's nothing special about me except for being a spirit medium... And I can't even do that..."

"That's not true!" I seize her shoulders. "Maybe you didn't score an 8 in training, but that doesn't make you useless! You're smart, too, and... you've really helped us get through this, just by being yourself. Maybe it's hard for you to see, but... trust me, all right? I, at least, wouldn't have made it this far without you."

Swallowing, I look at the pillars. "Maybe I could..."

"No!" Maya's cry is sharp as she knocks me over.

I hit the ground butt-first and wince as my shoulder blades hit afterwards. "Was that really necessary?"

In response, Maya stomps on my stomach to keep me down.

"So—" Gumshoe chins up a little—"that leaves me, right?"

"No!" Maya thrusts her fists down. "You're not going, either! I won't let you!"

He pauses before giving her a lopsided smile. "How are you going to stop me?"

"What?" She blinks.

He rolls his shoulders back and assumes some sort of fighting stance. "How are you going to stop me, pal? Don't think you'll be knocking me down!"

"I'll...!" Tearing up, she keeps watching him. "If you go get zapped, then I'll run in after you before they can shut the electricity off!"

Gumshoe blinks. "But... what's the point of that if I'm already dead?"

"It's... Oh...!" Maya stomps her foot down again, thankfully not on me this time. "Nobody's going to go die! Nobody! I'll... I'll just dig us out!"

She gets to her knees and starts raking her fingers through the ground frantically.

I sit up and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maya..."

"I've got this, okay?! Nobody go anywhere!" Grunting, she squeezes her eyes shut as she continues to claw at the ground. When she shouts in pain, I grab her wrists to make her stop. Her hands are filthy now, a few nails bleeding. She looks at me as if to say something but just hangs her head and sobs.

"D-don't go... Nobody go..." She chokes. "Please..."

I squeeze her shoulder silently before looking up at Gumshoe. Rocking on his heels, he stares at the pillars.

"Come on, Gumshoe. Sit down." I swallow. "Let's... just think this through. I'm sure there's some way out we've overlooked."

He raises an eyebrow. "We've been thinking about it for days, pal. I think, between the three of us, we'd have come up with something if there was something to come up with."

"But..." I clench a fist and slowly get to my fight. Keeping my voice low so Maya won't hear, I say, "At least... let me be in the running for this?"

"Nope." He grins. "Neither of you is getting past me, pal. Not until that electric fence goes off."

Maya looks up. Although she's definitely been crying, I guess she's too dehydrated for any tears to be spilling down her face.

"Don't," she says.

"Sorry, pal." He squats down to more easily look her in the eye. "I can't let you—or Phoenix—do this. I can't let you starve here, either." He chuckles. "I sure wish I had a better way to help, but I'll do what I can, pal."

"Gumshoe..." I look down.

What am I supposed to do? Maybe I could catch him off-guard and knock him out... But it would be hard to stop Maya from running without his help... And if I do get to take the hit myself, how would she be able to drag him out of here in time? A-and... I mean, honestly... I don't want to die like that...

I can't just do nothing, but... But...

"Oh, hey." He reaches behind his ear and holds out the pencil. "You might still need this, huh?"

"We..." Maya fists her bloodied hands. "We'll still need all of you! Gumshoe..."

He chuckles. "Thanks, pal. Sorry it had to go like this. You..." He looks at me, too. "You both stay safe, all right?"

"We... can't really promise that here." I exhale. "But I promise to keep Maya safe."

Maya grabs my arm. "Well, I promise to keep Nick safe!"

I glance at her, but Gumshoe chuckles again.

"Great." He hesitates for a second before pulling us into a bear hug.

Knocked out of breath, I try to recover as he stands back up. Maya reaches out towards him, and I shakily take her arm, just in case.

"All right." Gumshoe gives us a tight smile. "I'm glad I got to be a part of this alliance, pal."

He turns and charges between two of the pillars. They go off, and I have to turn away. At least we don't hear him scream.

The cannon fires, and somehow I manage to get my bag onto Maya and grab Gumshoe's. Sobbing, Maya follows me towards the body. Once the claw is around him, we bolt out.

No zap.

...Thank you...

...Gumshoe...


	30. Moving

It seems like... every time another of us dies, it hurts worse, but I react less. It's... I guess, on some level, I realize the Games are just getting more serious, and I need to step up to that.

That's the only feasible reason for me to be casually searching out a stream just minutes after Gumshoe was electrocuted.

I don't know. I'm thirsty. I have to take care of Maya. Let's just keep going somehow.

We do manage to find a stream. Maya lets the water run over her hands before she tries to get a drink. I get out the water bottles.

All three of them. That used to be one too few, and now it's one too many... At any rate, it can't hurt to stock up...

I'm doing my best not to gulp my water too quickly when a jabberjay lands at the other bank. It seems too busy drinking to tell us anything. I don't mind. Between Gumshoe's pencil and everything on the newspaper clipping, I don't know if I could take any notes.

I don't think Maya will be, either. She's certainly not any happier than me, and her nails are pretty torn up. None of them have been ripped off, at least, but they still can't feel nice. I should have stopped her digging earlier... Although I don't know if she would have let me.

"Suxorz! This barely tastes like meat at all! What's a guy got to do to get a steak around here?!"

The jabberjay. I doubt anyone's too worried about getting a T-bone at this point. That, and the only males left are me and Manfred now. I'm pretty sure this isn't coming from either one of us.

"Quiet down." Dee. She doesn't say anything else for a moment. "Hmph."

"Huh? What?"

A pause. "I heard something."

I refill my water bottle and close it up. Apparently the sound is enough to scare off the jabberjay. Oh, well. I'm sure we'll run into it later.

"Let's keep going." I put the bottle into Gu—my bag and stand up. "Maybe we can find more clues. We'll just try going downstream for now."

Maya drags her hands through the stream for a little longer before getting up. She gives me a nod, and we start walking.

"Sal! Sal!" cries the jabberjay from its branch before it flies away.

...Was that from Dee? It sort of sounded like her, but then again, the shouting... What happened to Sal, I wonder...?

Maybe we can figure it out. We could find the scene and... piece it together.

That's about all we have left. Maybe we can figure out a little more of who killed who. We sure can't bring any of them back. None of our friends, none of the other tributes.

I'm probably just trying to distract myself. But I'm all right with that.

* * *

The stream runs into a lake. The shore is slick with mud, so I don't get too close at the moment, but it looks otherwise innocuous. We'll probably stay here for the night. We haven't found anything to investigate, but it is starting to get late.

"I'm going to go ahead and get started on a shelter." I certainly don't feel like doing any heavy lifting, but it looks like it might rain tonight. Watch or otherwise, we might both need to stay under a good roof.

"Okay." Maya takes her bag off her shoulder and sets it down. "I'll help."

I start to smooth out a little bit of ground, not too close to the lake. "Are you sure? With your nails ripped up, it might not be too good of an idea to handle a lot of stuff.

"I'll help," she repeats, walking up and clearing out the space with me.

We've moved on to spreading leaves over the spot when I nearly kick something. Thankfully, I don't think it's a trap—if it was, then Afro Girl would have had to set it up herself.

Picking up the camera—it was laying face-down in the grass—I look it over. A hairline crack goes across the back screen, but otherwise it doesn't seem harmed. I wonder how it got here...

"Is that Lotta's camera?" Maya peeks over my shoulder at it. "Oh! Did she get a picture of that lake monster? Wait—is this the lake?" She looks over her shoulder at the water. "Maybe we shouldn't stay so close to it..."

I look at the choppy surface. "I don't see anything... She may have just imagined it." I look over the buttons on the camera. "She was saying this wasn't working so well, so I doubt she good a good picture. The batteries are probably sapped, anyway... Oh!"

The screen glows white with some brand name in the middle before it fades to a view of the forest in front of it. After a little navigating, I manage to pull up a saved photo menu. There are 17 in here. I decide to view them starting with the most recent. I glance at the date in the corner, but I don't remember when we actually entered the arena.

"Whoa..."

The actual picture looks like it was taken from some point above the lake—it could have been from that tree branch overhanging it near here. Sunlight reflecting off the waves makes one corner indistinguishable, but right in the middle of the frame must be what she was referring to as the lake monster. It's a blur—either the camera was busy focusing on the sparkling water, or the thing was moving—but it's dark, with a flash of either scales or teeth. It's awfully close to the camera...

I look back towards the overhanging branch. It's not that high above the water. If it was weighed down by a person, it probably wouldn't be any taller than the average guy's height. Even so, it would be hard to get this close of a shot unless the monster was jumping some distance. Lotta probably wasn't expecting that...

It didn't get her, did it? She could have hurled her camera here from there, but... If I were under attack, my first priority wouldn't be getting my camera out of the way. I mean, I don't actually have a camera, but...

She could have been freeing her hands to climb back, though. That would make sense. And this is the last picture she took despite having a decent amount of battery left, from the looks of it. I guess I wouldn't really expect her to take a picture of someone else who came along and attacked her, but... I don't know.

What other pictures does she have on here?

The next two are nearly the same as the latest. They're on the same date, too. The three before that, on different days, are too dark to see anything, even if I try to zoom in.

"Nick? Am I doing this right?"

Blinking, I look up at Maya, who has drifted over to the campsite and started to put up some branches.

"Uh—yeah." I put the camera in my pocket. I can keep looking through it later, especially with its backlit screen. Shelter and other such survival things are a little more important. Why do I need to keep reminding myself about this...?

With one last glance back at the lake, I step over and work on tonight's shelter.

* * *

Maya falls asleep surprisingly quickly. I guess it's just the exhaustion—physical and mental. At any rate, I don't want to look through the rest of the photos without her, so I turn the camera off and stare out at the drizzling rain.

It's probably near midnight when a cannon fires. Who's left again? Maya and I, Violet, Manfred, and Wendy, right? It doesn't look like that was my district partner's, so... Hmm. Either way, we're in the final four now. Crazy...

I guess this is what I wanted to happen. When I said I would defend Maya, I meant I wasn't going to let her die. And she hasn't. That's good.

I somehow hadn't realized what it would take to get this far, though. How much we would both have to lose. We're still healthy, at least—although I'm crossing my fingers when it comes to her nails—and we have some supplies, but... that's it. We're still hungry. We're still tired. We're still so beaten down by it all it's a miracle we haven't just curled up and surrendered.

But I guess we're still fighting for each other. That must be enough.

...Yeah. It is. Even if she hasn't really had the chance to be her cheerful, crazy self lately, I don't think I could do this anymore without her. If I were without her... If I had failed to protect her... I don't know what I'd do. Surely I'd still have the instinct to keep myself alive, but... that would be it. After all of this, after all of these other tributes dying... How could I hope to make myself win? I don't think I deserve to die or anything, but... I don't think I could motivate myself to win. Especially if I had to actually fight for it.

I guess I'll still have to fight, though, and it won't be easy. Maybe I have a weapon to call my own now, but that hardly makes a difference. I still don't know what I'm doing. I still don't want to do it. But... if it's for Maya...

...If it's von Karma I have to kill...

...I don't know. It's still hard to think about. Everything is at this point. I just...

I'll figure it out as I go along. That's all I can do.

Shivering, I try not to let the sound of rain lull me to sleep just yet.


	31. Throw

The rain has stopped by the time I wake up, but water still drips from the trees. I'm a little scared to get the camera back out. It's not "raining" closer to the lake... but then I might drop it in the lake.

Oh, well. Seeing the other pictures can wait a little. For now, I'll look over the lake area to see if anything happened to Lotta here.

There are remains of a shelter near a thicker patch of trees. The thing has seen better days. It's so beaten-up it was less effort to make an entirely new one for ourselves. I can't tell exactly what happened to it, although I don't see any blade marks or signs of a hovercraft claw.

"Hey, Nick!" Maya gestures at a firepit with some pots and pans. I can tell from here that they're empty.

I sigh. "You know I don't have anything to cook in those, right?"

"No, I know. I was just wondering, why are camping pots and pans made of aluminum?"

"...They didn't talk about that in any of the government books I've read."

She claps her hands together. "So, there's no law saying they have to be made out of aluminum, then!"

I'm not having this conversation...

"Anyway, I don't see anything weird about these..." I carefully turn one over, and then the other one. They're pretty sturdy. Must have been from the Cornucopia. "Let's keep looking."

As I stand up, I notice Maya shaking out her fingers.

"Need to go easy on the clapping for a while?" I ask.

She looks down. "Yeah..."

I go over the campsite again before slowly leading Maya around the lake. No triggered traps. No bloodstains. No clues. I wonder if Lotta even went all the way around this place. It all looks more or less the same. I can see her running to that one tree to get her shot of the monster if she had already seen it, but otherwise...

I gaze back at the lake, but I really can't make out anything suspicious. The water's really clear, too... But I guess something could still be lurking in the shadows at the bottom... A giant lake monster... Probably watching us now...

Why am I still standing here...?

Taking a few steps away from the shore, I rest a hand on my hip.

"So... We don't have many good leads. We're sure Lotta stayed here, but did she die here?"

"Wait..." Maya blinks. "Why are we sure Lotta was the one camping here?"

"Because she left her camera... Ah!" I don't take it out, but I feel the lump in my pocket. "But she's pretty protective of this, right? I don't think she would have just left it..." I pat my jacket pocket—where it fits perfectly—and let my arm drop. "And it's easy enough to carry around that she wouldn't have dropped it to run unless she was in the middle of using it. And the last time she was using it..."

"Was when she was taking a picture of that lake monster. It definitely got her, Nick!" She balls her fists loosely. "Let's catch it! And kill it! And eat it! In her memory!"

I lean back. "Uh... I don't know if we'd want to take on something like that." I exhale. "How would we catch it, anyway?"

"Well..." She looks down into the water. "I guess a fishing pole's probably not going to do it. I don't know how to make one, anyway..." She starts to droop, and I swallow.

I guess we both know who would...

"H-hey. Let's keep looking around, just in case there's something else to see around here, all right?" I tug on her arm a little.

"All right." Sniffling, she looks up and follows me.

We don't find anything until we're back at the overhanging tree.

"So this is where she shot those last few pictures, huh?" I look up at it. I really can't see any damage—any bitten-off leaves or anything—but I guess Lotta could have just fallen... Or maybe she got her leg chomped, and then she was swung around without... breaking the branch...

Ugh... That poor girl...

"It must have been..." Maya looks to the side. "Maybe it's not such a good idea to hang around the lake with the people-eating monster."

"Yeah... We should get moving." I watch the lake's surface. Whether the monster—er, mutt—actually ate her or the hovercraft just took all of the remains away, I can't tell... "Let's... go upstream a little for our water before we head out."

* * *

"Hold on. Are those glasses?"

If other jabberjay entrances were startling, they've got nothing on my own voice being played back to me.

...Do I always sound that dramatic?

"Huh? You might be right, pal."

Maya looks down shaking, and I put an arm over her shoulders to steady the both of us.

"Whoa!" continues Gumshoe's voice. "Are those the victim's? How did they get over there? There wasn't an explosion or anything, was there?"

"It doesn't look like it," says Maggey. I think I'm starting to choke... "I bet someone put them there on purpose."

The jabberjay has the courtesy to stop there, but another one flits up next to it before Maya can stop crying.

"If he was capable of being so clear-minded, he would have been for at least an observable moment in the last week!" Me again.

"Gumshoe. Do you have anything you'd like to add?" Miles...

"Yeah, pal!"

By now, more of the birds have flocked.

One gives us Maggey's last scream.

Another gives us Will's.

Another gives us Edgeworth's.

And then I'm screaming.

"_Get away from us!_" Edgeworth's bird at least cuts off at that, but only one of the flock flies away. "I said, get away!"

There aren't any throwable rocks on the ground. I try waving my arms and shouting more, but it only scares off one more of them.

"Do you still... want to be friends... Phoenix?"

I grab something from the bag and hurl it at the crowd. It hits one jabberjay square in the beak, and finally the lot of them hop back, shake out their wings, and beat it.

Breathing hard but barely getting any air in, I watch the bottle of enzyme tablets clatter back down to the forest floor. Oh, just leave the thing there. We'll never have any idea what exactly it is, anyway. No reason to carry around dead weight.

"You two seem rather upset."

Gasping, I turn around and try to step in front of Maya. Although I already recognized the bellowing voice, I have to see his face before I'm sure von Karma is here. And he is. Arms at his sides casually, he grins sickeningly.

"Have we met?"

Maya balls her fists. "O-of course we have! We're all tributes. We saw each other in training!"

"Ahem." He blinks evenly. "I beg your pardon—you see, I have no reason to remember most of the tributes here. They are like bugs to me. Needless things, to be crushed."

I swallow, looking him over. He has his jacket tucked under one arm and a sword sheathed on the same side. His shirt is rumpled in a weird way around his right shoulder—now that I look at it, there's something stuck in there... I think it's dug all the way into his shoulder, too...

A... few segments of a snap-off utility blade...?

_"I noticed that my only knife—a snap-off utility blade—was missing, but I wasn't sure what to make of it until last night."_

That...!

_Miles, delirious, hurls his knife in an attempt to drive Yanni away from Penny._

Is it...

_Missing any clear targets, it flies into the trees, where Manfred was standing._

That blade?

_It strikes him in the shoulder, and all he can do is snap off the notches embedded inside him and take the rest of the blade out._

Edgeworth's blade?

_Drawn to the scene, Manfred barely looks over the two collapsed from the poison, and then he sees the girl who had escaped his reach earlier. Knife in hand, he lunges—_

"Now..." Manfred's injury hardly keeps him from smoothly withdrawing the sword with his left hand. "Out of my way!"

No—!

"No!" Maya lunges in front of me before I can make a move. Seizing the hand guard of the sword, she tries to pull it out of Manfred's grasp.

"Whoa!" He puts his other hand to the hilt quickly. "What are you—?!"

Maya looks over her shoulder at me. "N-Nick! Run!"

Then von Karma rips the sword out of her hands, slashing it across her torso in the process.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"M-Maya!" I can't catch her before she crumples to the ground. She's already bleeding badly, and her eyes are shut. I have to—!

"Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" My knees give out when the sword digs into the side of my neck. The blade drags upward before clipping my ear, leaving a burning pain in its wake.

But I can't—! Maya...!

Dodging another sword slash, I get my arms underneath her, and I'm running off with her before I know what I'm doing. My neck pain fades to an eerie tingling—I can still feel blood sliding down from it—and the trees go by more slowly than they should when I'm running this hard. I can't hear Manfred behind me, but I can't hear much of anything over my own breathing.

I just have to keep going. Keep going. Keep going...!

I'm just past a clearing when I get too dizzy to run any farther. Just slowing down without stumbling is hard enough, and I collapse to my knees, nearly hitting Maya's head on a root. She hasn't woken up yet, and she's still bleeding. And I'm still bleeding.

I... I should put pressure on mine first, I guess. I don't know what I'm going to do about hers, yet, anyway... It's a long slash...

Swallowing, I end up wrapping my neck up with the bottom of Gumshoe's overcoat. My ear's still dripping blood, but I don't think it's enough to worry about.

Maya... Maya... It's such a long cut... Do I have to stitch it up? I don't know how to stitch wounds. I don't have any supplies, either...

Wait a minute...

Wiping my hands clean—cleaner—on my pants, I shuffle through the lighter bag. As fast as I'm trying to work, my hands are shaking, and it's hard to find...

There!

I pull out the bottle of superglue. Maybe... Maybe this will do it...

"H-hang in there, Maya," I mutter, unscrewing the lid with some difficulty and pulling her blood-stained shirt up just enough to get started.

* * *

By the time she shifts her shoulders, von Karma still hasn't found us.

We're both still alive... I think we'll be okay...

"Ma... Maya! Maya! Open your eyes!" I try to keep my voice down, but everything's so overwhelming I can barely get a handle on myself. "Maya!"

Her eyelids flutter open, and she peers up at me, moaning.

She looks ready to cry. "Manfred! Did he hurt you?"

"Huh!? Oh... yeah. A-are you okay!?"

She makes a sobbing noise. "I... I couldn't stop him. I jumped as fast as I could, but he still cut straight through me and got you, too. I'm useless. I'm not good as an ally, or a medium! I wish I hadn't woken up at all."

She sniffs, shutting her eyes and curling up a little.

"Maya!" I jiggle her shoulder, and she glances at me before closing her eyes again.

"I'm okay, Nick... I'm just tired... I'm sorry..."

"I-it's all right." I check for anyone nearby before I get out her jacket and lay it over her.

She's still breathing steadily. The bleeding has stopped, too. I think she'll be okay... physically. But I have to do something about her self-esteem.

...I think she's sleeping again. But... it's okay.

I'll prove it to you, Maya. You're most definitely not useless!

I... I should get us moving again. I left some footprints behind, and von Karma could still find us... I think I can make it a little farther...

I get a drink of water and steel myself to carry her again.


	32. A Few Photographs

As hard as I try to take a good watch, I slip away before I even get to see the death toll. The sky is pitch-dark by the time I wake up.

First things first—Maya still seems to be doing all right. We're without a shelter tonight, but it doesn't seem to have hurt us terribly so far. The crick in my back is nothing compared to the burn at the side of my neck. I can't even turn my head without having to muffle my shouts of pain. It must be worse for Maya, too...

We're both still alive, though, by some miracle. I still can't believe the sword didn't cut deep enough to puncture anything vital. I can't believe I sped us out of von Karma's reach, either. I guess when we want to do something bad enough, people can do the most amazing things.

Hopefully I can pull off something equally amazing the next time we meet...

Then again, with Maya's help... She's proven that she's stronger than she looks. Not to the point of taking on someone like Manfred by herself, but...

How can she think she's useless...?

I guess this place just messes with our brains in all sorts of ways. Maya's lost her confidence, I used Gumshoe's overcoat for bandages without even thinking about it...

I... don't like this...

* * *

Maya wakes up before dawn, but we don't try to do anything until the sun rises. No need to stumble around in the dark, especially when we've both lost enough blood we'll hardly be walking straight, anyway. We wouldn't want any light to give us away, either...

"Hey. We could check the camera now, if you want." I slow the pace, feeling my pocket.

"Yeah..." Maya looks around before sitting. "Let's do that."

I lower myself next to her and get out the camera. It takes a second for me to remember how to get to the saved pictures, but soon I'm staring back at the last one I saw. Still no discernible details.

"All right. Twelve left..." I go back a picture.

This one is a lot clearer than the ones before it, although still a little dim. The photo is thickly framed by trees, but just off-center is an open hovercraft claw. Beneath it lies Sal. He's face-down, his chest in a pool of blood and his arms splayed out. A clear slice goes across the front of his left forearm. I can't see the front of his right, but it looks like he probably held up his arms to defend himself.

Swallowing, I zoom in on his arm. The gash is at an angle, probably from a slashing weapon. Although blood has dripped down from it, there's more of a splash on the bottom edge, so... the strike was a sort of upperstroke here?

Since the bloodstain makes it like the fatal wound was somewhere in his chest, Sal was probably protecting his head or neck when he was cut open. So...

"So, what kind of weapon did that?" I say aloud, rubbing my chin.

Maya frowns. "I bet Manfred did that."

"It definitely looks like it could be a sword... But not necessarily."

"What else could it be?" She halfway crosses her arms, hunching a little so she won't rub anything against her stomach wound. "A knife?"

"Yeah... Although..." I zoom out on the picture a little bit. "Even if he was taken by surprise and had to block the first swipe... I would think he would have shown a little more resistance to someone with a smaller weapon. He may not have been muscular, but he did have a little weight to throw around. But it looks like the only strikes were those to his arm—maybe one to his other—and the fatal one."

"So... Was he fighting someone a lot faster?"

"That would make sense..." I sweat. "But now that I think about, most of the tributes were probably faster than him."

Maya loosely fists her hands. "But it was definitely someone out to kill him, right?"

I look over the picture again. "Yeah, there couldn't have been much hesitation. So... who would be out to kill him? The way he looks at some people, I'm sure he's made a lot of enemies, but for someone to go after him without a second thought... Unless they had talked to him for a little bit before deciding the strike..."

"You don't think..." Maya covers her mouth a little. "Dee killed him, do you?"

I shake my head. "She sounded pretty distraught when she called his name in the last recording we heard of her. And if that was actually when he died... She would have gone back to him after being separated from him by the mutts she sent at us. Would she go to that trouble just to kill him? And then sound panicked about it?"

I zoom out all the way. "I can't see her in this picture, but she must have come back to say that after whatever they heard split them up a second time. In fact, it's probably safe to say whoever they heard then was Sal's killer."

"And Dee ran from them, too." Maya yawns and cringes. "So, someone that looked ready to hurt both of them..."

Someone scary with a large, slicing weapon and the skills to use it...

"It really is looking like von Karma," I admit. "But... I really can't say for sure until I know who else had what weapon."

I look over the picture again for any telltale signs, but there really isn't anything. Nothing dropped. No footprints.

Maya doesn't point out anything else, either, so I push the Next Photo button. Next up is just a bunch of smudges, no matter how I zoom in or out.

Exhaling, I turn my neck and shoulders to look at Maya. "Are you still feeling all right?"

She looks down. "Yeah... It still hurts, and I'm a little thirsty, but..."

"We're nearly out, aren't we?" I check our spare bottle, and it's half-full. "Let's go ahead and find a stream..." I pause. "Probably... not the last one we saw. Manfred could be waiting for us..." I put the camera in my pocket for now and slowly rise to my feet. "Now, which direction was that...?"

Maya slumps. "I don't know."

"Yeah, me neither." I swallow. "We'll be taking it slowly, anyway, so we ought to see things long before we run into them."

I pause before I can extend a hand to her. "Would you rather stay here? It might be a bad idea for you to move around a lot... I don't know how well you're sealed up."

"Well, I'm not letting you go alone." She starts to push herself up, and I quickly lean over to give her a hand. "You need someone to look around for you, with your neck hurt like that."

I sigh. "Fine. But tell me if the cut starts acting up, all right? We still have a little water. We can take some breaks on the way there."

She nods, and I lead her slowly, an arm around her back just in case.

* * *

Whatever stream this is, von Karma isn't waiting beside it. That makes it good enough for me.

We refill our bottles and wash off our wounds a little. It stings like heck, but if all of the water has been good for drinking, surely it's a better cleanser than isn't bleeding, but a lot of the skin around the wound looks irritated. Hopefully it's nothing serious.

These Games will probably be wrapped up soon, though. I'm sure she'll get good medical care in time... if she still needs it...

Mentally shaking my head, I make some fresh bandages out of the overcoat. It still seems callous, but... Gumshoe would hardly mind. I think I can assume that much.

Once we're somewhat refreshed, we put a little distance between ourselves and the stream before stopping. No reason to stay anywhere too obvious.

"Want to see the next picture?" I start once we're settled. It's still a while before sunset. We have time.

Maya nods, scooting right next to me as I pull out the camera and start pushing buttons.

Sal... A dark one...

The picture before those is Miss May. I can tell the shot was taken from above. Has Lotta been making a habit of hiding in the trees? She obviously wasn't completely out of sight if she took this... but maybe she was just waiting for a shot. I can't think of any other feasible reason she's been taking these pictures, if not just for the sake of photography. I don't think she brought an expensive-looking camera to the Hunger Games just because she happened to have one lying around the house.

Silhouettes of leaves poke at the picture, but Miss May is still pretty clear. She already has her short shorts, and she crouches resting with one shoulder against a tree. Looking off to her right, she doesn't seem especially distraught. Her clothes are rumpled but free of bloodstains. It doesn't look like Wellington or Payne is anywhere near her. Was this taken after his murder?

The day of?

"Is that a hatchet she's holding?" Maya squints at the screen.

"Looks like it. I..." I zoom in. "I think there's blood on the blade, too."

"It must be Winston's!" Maya fists her hands. "I knew she killed him!"

"Hold it—there's no way to know whose blood that is. It could have been an animal just as easily."

"Oh..." She sighs. "I guess we still don't have proof she did it..."

I look over the picture. "Maybe we do." I lift my eyebrows. "Yeah. In this very picture!"

"What?" Maya shoots a glance at me before turning back to the screen. "Where?!"

"Right here!" I jab a finger at the photo before turning towards her with a bit of a smile.

Maya watches my fingertip. "Uh... What am I supposed to be seeing, Nick...? That just looks like a clump of grass."

"Huh? I look back at the screen. "Never mind that. M-my finger slipped."

Maya grins a little. "I thought you were an expert at pointing at things."

"Well..." With a laugh-like exhale, I move my finger over a little bit. "How about here? See her right shoe?"

"Her... Oh!" Maya blinks. "There's blood on the end of it!"

I nod, trying not to jerk from the twinge it sends down my neck. "Right where it was on those footprints—the ones leading away from Winston's blood."

"I knew it." Maya nods and tilts the camera screen a little more towards her. "Let's look at the next one."

I oblige.

The next one is darkness again. I guess Lotta didn't go back and erase any of these. Maybe she didn't really want to look at them again.

After another empty picture, we get another one in daylight. On the right, near the bottom of the frame, is Miles. Stumbling forward, he's either blinking or doesn't have his eyes open at all. At any rate, he doesn't look well.

In the midground, lying across half of the screen, is... Penny. Throat cut open. Dead.

I zoom in on the wound so I can't see her face anymore. It could be anyone now. Anyone with her neck slashed across...

Maya isn't watching anymore, so I don't bring it to her attention, but...

The cut is jagged, at a harsh upward angle. I can understand—if it was from the utility blade, it may not have been sharpened as well as some of the weapons.

But there's no way _a thrown knife_ could have made that wound.

Sighing in relief, I wait a moment for my hands to stop shaking before I go on. Nothing until the camera's fourth saved picture—a jabberjay. No one in the background. It's... a nice shot, though.

The Cornucopia gleams in the background of the picture before it. Only two people are in the shot—Jack and W.P. Will's already dragging his ankle. He's going in Jack's direction, but the former's gaze is fixed on a stuffed supply bag a little bit behind Jack. Penny, alive and well in this one, lingers by the edge of the screen, scooping up something else.

Unable to look at her, I hurry to the next picture.

...

I stare at it, choked breathless for a moment, until I find myself bowed over weeping.

_Say cheese!_

"N-Nick? What's wrong?!"

I feel Maya grab my shoulder, but she must turn and see the picture.

"...Oh..."

The lighting was certainly good enough in this one. You can see everyone clearly. Gumshoe, mouth wide open laughing. Next to him, Edgeworth, eyeing the camera and at least managing a smirk for it. Dustin still has a straight face as he says something to Maggey, who opens her mouth smiling. Next to her is Miss May, winking at the camera. Halfway cut out of the frame, Winston is turned towards us as well, looking surprised.

On the near side of the table is me, obviously not prepared for the camera shot. Right next to me is W.P., Penny just behind him. They're both smiling for the camera.

_Look at us! We're not going to start killing each other!_

I'm the only one in this picture who's still alive...

H...how could...

How... How am I...

How is everyone else...

H-how...

_How_...?


	33. Impact

It's the next morning before I'm back to being numb. Mentally, at least. My neck doesn't feel much better yet.

We don't really talk as we check back on the stream. No one waiting. We get the water we need and go back to moving. We'd better not be getting any closer to von Karma. I didn't keep the best track of north and south when I was fleeing for my life, so I can't be sure, but... I feel like he's not the type to sit and wait a bunch. So the odds are a little better for us if we keep moving. I know we'll run into someone eventually, but... Not right now... Please...

...If we don't run into Manfred, we could still find the other remaining tribute. I still don't know whether that would be Oldbag or White, but... Neither would be good. The last we heard, Wendy was playing to win. Of course, Violet is doing the same. Everyone is.

I guess we are, too... Kind of. Playing for each other to win, by the sound of it. If we get that far, which of us... actually will "win"? I can't let Maya get killed, but... She's trying to protect me, too... And I don't want to die... But she can't die, either...

If... If I "win"... I'm... going to be stone-cold dead... really soon...

...

...Let's... not freak out right now. Now would be a bad time. The rest of the Games would be a bad time.

I guess the rest of my life would be a bad time, then...

I swallow and forge ahead.

Mia... wouldn't be moping about this. It's not that she wouldn't be scared, or know how serious it is... But... she'd be smiling. No matter how bad it gets—no, especially when it's bad... What was it she said?

_"You can't smile at the end if you haven't been smiling the whole way there."_

...Not for herself, either. So the rest of us, everyone who relied on her, could still be hopeful. _Chief says we'll figure this out. Nothing to worry about._

I... wish we could see her smiling now... We could really use it...

But... no. Maybe... I...

We're stopping at another stream before Maya really looks at me.

"Nick...?"

"Huh?" A get a a good glug before looking back at her.

"Why... are you smiling?"

I hesitate but refuse to let my face fall. "That's because... it'll turn out all right. Maybe it all seems hopeless now, but... things will turn around. I think—I know... that everything is going to work out the way it's supposed to. Both of us... we'll be all right, in the end. Whichever way it turns out."

I watch the stream again as I refill my bottle.

"But, Nick..." Tears are at the edges of her eyes. "In the end, we're... At least one of us will..."

"I know." I turn back to smile at her.

She chokes for a second before hugging me, her face in my chest. She's shaking a little, and I can't quite tell whether she's feeling better or worse. I hug her back.

...I know. I'm not your sister. I'll never be quite like her. No one could be.

But... I'll still look after you. And I'll still... try to believe in myself. That maybe, in the face of all of this, we can both win in the end.

* * *

I think we just found the Cornucopia.

Well, I guess there's not much thinking to do about it. I don't believe there are too many other giant, golden horns in this arena. The starting plates are here, too... Some blood stains... Some supplies, too, although it's mostly cleaned out.

I don't see any other tributes here, though. I guess no one was quite able to force everyone else away to take the whole area for themselves. Our alliance probably could have banded together and managed it... but we were a little busy panicking and running away. Well-planned, Phoenix, well-planned...

We approach slowly. All of the traps in this area should have already been triggered, but the whole place still gives off dangerous vibes.

"We should... be careful." Well, that's a no-brainer. "As far as other tributes, and... watch your step, too." Will twisted his ankle around here somewhere, so...

Maya nods and stays by me as we look the place over. Most of the leftovers don't look inherently useful. A square of plastic. A washrag. The left-behind broken handle of a knife.

Is that...?!

"Oh!" Maya hops over a golf club and dives at the shrink-wrapped bag like it's going to escape otherwise. "Look! Look!" She waves it in the air.

I hurry over. "More salami, huh? Is it still good?"

"It hasn't been opened, so... yeah!" She claps her hands together. "I've almost forgotten how to be hungry at this point, but I bet I can figure out how to be full!"

Now that I think about it, I've been too thirsty most of the time to really feel hungry, too... But this has to be good for us, and the thought of meat doesn't exactly make my lip turn. And... Maya's actually smiling.

She struggles with the wrapper for a moment before I toss her a knife. With a thanks, she splits the package open and slices off a few pieces before wrapping the rest up again.

I take a second to look over the meat for any bad signs, but all I can really notice is the smell. Food. Food...

Although we're in the lightest spirits we've been for days, we're too busy nibbling to do any talking. I don't know if I can eat a whole slice of this... I'm sure I could use it, though.

It still doesn't take long before we're stuffed. We throw the extra slices back in the plastic and wrap it up as tightly as we can. In our condition, this could probably feed us for a week. No problem with that, though. Even if we can't stand much, a few bites is a lot better than nothing.

We're down to our last full water bottle now, but we decide to stick around for a minute. The nearest stream is a good walk away, and I'm not sure I want to come here a third time. We might as well look through the rest of the supplies while we're here, and then leave.

I'm examining a possible bottle of disinfectant when Maya cries out, startled.

"What?" I accidentally turn my neck instead of my shoulders, and my vision flashes out for a second from the pain. Not letting my knees go weak, I take a deep breath and locate Maya. She seems fine, but here eyes are still wide as she looks past me.

"Nick! Someone—!"

I spin around quickly just in time to see something bursting from the trees.

And he's running too fast for me to get out of the way.

"Stay back!" I shout—to both of them, really—as I retrieve the baton. Gripping both ends, I hold it up just in time to block the sword, but the strike still sends me flying back. Unable to stay on my feet, I at least cushion my fall with my elbows as von Karma steps up to take another swipe.

No taunting this time? He must be upset with us now.

I guard my chest before I can tell where he's aiming, and the sword hits the baton again. This thing's pretty sturdy.

I don't dare turn my head to check on Maya, but I still shout her name as I scramble to get back to my feet. "Stay out of the way, all right? I can't risk you getting cut open again!"

I parry another blow, although the tip of the sword still grazes my shoulder with a little bite. Manfred pulls his sword back for a more powerful strike, and I whip the baton at his face while I have the chance. He ducks back with a scoff.

Swallowing, I hurry to get my weapon back under control as he brings the sword back around. I dodge, nearly knocking myself off-balance before I stumble back to face him. He attacks again with a driving stab, and even when I hold up the baton, the sword glances off it. Thankfully, I pull back before the blade has the chance to pierce my stomach.

After that, Manfred pauses, although I'm a lot more out of breath than him.

"Well?" He snaps, holding his arm up. "I'm giving you a chance to attack properly. Take it! This would hardly be a perfect battle if I didn't parry any of your strikes, now, would it?"

What...? I have no idea what he's talking about, but I'd better drive him back while I have an opening!

With a grunt, I bring the baton around to the side of his head hard. He catches it with his right hand. I think I hear a little crackle, but he isn't wincing enough for anything to have broken.

"Pathetic." He throws the baton back at me, and I barely manage to keep my grip as he swings his sword back around.

The blade goes halfway through my elbow before I can do anything about it. My hand suddenly goes limp, the baton slipping off my wrist. Choking, I stoop to snatch the weapon off the ground with my left hand.

Manfred brings his forearm around, slamming it into my chest. Barely standing as it is, I fall back, my shoulder ramming into the side of the Cornucopia in the process.

I push the pain back as von Karma closes in

"What a shame. I would have hoped that a tribute who made it so far would be more of a challenge." He puts both hands on the sword hilt and tilts his chin down to grin at me. "Ah, well."

I lift up the baton to block, but I know it won't work, not with only one hand gripping. There's nowhere to scoot back into, and—now with his foot on my shin, there's no way I'll get back to my feet in time.

So, this... this must be it for me...

Did Maya get away...? She must have...

Thank you... I know it must have been hard for you to leave me, but... I can go a little happier knowing that you're safe for a while longer.

So... I guess there are worse ways to die... Maybe... I can... handle this...!

My throat still closes up as I shrink down in a last attempt to defend myself.

_Crack!_

The sword drops as Manfred, suddenly wide-eyed, loses his grip. The head of the golf club falls back away from the sudden crook in his neck as he collapses to the ground, limp.

I can only stare at him gasping for breath until Maya starts shaking me.

"Nick! Get up! Nick!"

I manage to uncurl myself, but I can't quite get my leg back out from under von Karma. He's still lying there, the top bones of his neck still looking off somehow, and, as hard as he's gasping, it doesn't look like he's exhaling any.

"Maya...?"

She pulls back a little, and I can see the imprint of the golf club grip stretching across her hands. "Get up! Can you get up? Nick!"

"I..." Putting my left hand on the ground, I wiggle my pinned leg before managing to get it out from under von Karma. I drag my feet in, and Maya quickly pulls me up.

"H-hurry! He might..." She trails off once she looks back at Manfred, who has yet to move a muscle since she hit him.

Stammering and on the verge of tears, she seizes my right forearm, which is now slick all over with blood. I still can't move it, but I can feel her when she wraps a hand tight around the wound.

"B-bandages," she gets out, looking around for where we set our bags. "W-we—we have to—"

A cannon cuts her off.


	34. Regrouping

Maya freezes, her grip on my elbow tightening painfully. Breathless, she turns her head until she's looking back at von Karma. Even with my focus starting to slip, it's easy to tell that he's the one dead.

Maya's fingernails are digging into my skin before I can get her attention.

"B-bandages, right...?" I try not to wobble where I'm standing.

"O-oh!" Maya jumps. "Right! I'm so sorry." Shaking, she leads me a little farther from the descending hovercraft claw before I unwillingly collapse, taking her down with me. She yelps but keeps her hand clamped over my wound.

It's still bleeding pretty badly, I think... If she weren't keeping pressure on it, I may have already bled to death by now...

If she hadn't hit Manfred, I definitely would have bled to death by now...

My eyes have already shut, but I can hear her dragging something over before I pass out altogether.

* * *

It's dark when I come to. I wait a minute for my eyes to adjust, but it's not happening too quickly.

My arm feels strange... My neck still aches, and my head isn't much better. And my throat... I... I have to drink something...

A wave my good arm around a little, but all I can feel is grass and twigs. I wouldn't expect my bag to be right next to me, but... I don't want to move any more than this...

Unable to swallow, I try to stay still for a minute, but I'm too thirsty. Where are the water bottles...?!

After a few tries, I prop myself up on my intact elbow and do my best to sit up. An explosion of spikes shoots through my head, and I crash back down. Okay... Okay... Let's not throw up now... Agh...

I have to wait a minute before trying again, much more slowly. I'm able to sit up all the way. If I'm inside a shelter, it's not a very small one...

I feel around the ground a little more, and my fingers brush cloth, flat on the ground. What is it...?

Wrapping my fingers around the edge—it's folded over—I tug at it a little, but it doesn't budge. Is it one of the supply bags? There ought to be water in it, then... I have to pull harder...!

A shriek makes me lose my balance, and I fall back again, losing my grip on the cloth. Maya doesn't stop screaming, though.

"M... Maya?" I can't hear myself over her, and I can't make myself any louder in this condition.

What's happening...?!

The screaming finally trails off, so I try calling her name again. Hopefully I'm not drawing any enemies closer to me, but I can't tell...

"N-Nick!" There's some rustling before I feel Maya carefully putting a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? Is everything..." I can barely see the gleam of her eyes turned towards me. "Was that you just then? I'm sorry..." She looks down. "I was kind of zoned out... Now I probably brought the last tribute running towards us..."

"N-no, it's fine." I try to swallow. "Can...?" I'm nearly slipping back into unconsciousness by now, despite my heart pounding from the jolt. "Water...?"

She takes a second to look back up at me. "O-oh! Right! Sorry..."

I can't say anything else until she puts the bottle in my hand and helps me back to a seated position. It's a while before I've driven off the thirst enough to focus back on her.

"Thanks," I start, lowering the bottle as I start to make out a few details of her face. I still can't make out the bag I was reaching for. Hold it. She was sitting pretty close by. Was I tugging on her clothes instead?

"You're... welcome." She looks down. "I... I'm... sorry..." She faces me again, sniffling. "I was trying to keep a good watch, but... I'm no good... I don't even know if I've actually fallen asleep or not..."

"Hold it!" I shake my head as much as I can without hurting myself. "Maya... It's okay to sleep. You... you should sleep. You've had a rough day, and... we're probably in for another one tomorrow. There's only one tribute left to find us, anyway... I'm sure she won't be showing up anytime soon. Go ahead and sleep."

"But... after all of that screaming..." She makes a sobbing noise. "And... And... Nick... I..." She hangs her head. "I'm sorry... After everything... After everyone... trying to protect me... I s-still... murdered someone..." She breaks down crying without another word.

"Maya!" I put the water bottle down and scoot next to her, putting an arm over her shoulders. She collapses a little under the weight, leaning into my side. I lean into her a little to keep from falling over. "C-calm down. You..."

But she's crying so hard I don't even know if she's listening. This... may not be the time to talk to her.

I lean close to her ear since my voice is so weak. "...Get some sleep, okay? If you can. I... can take watch, okay?"

I'm really in no condition to, but it might make her feel more comfortable with closing her eyes for a minute. And, screaming or not, I don't think anyone's going to find and attack us in this lack of light. I don't think this bluff is going to hurt anybody.

Maya chokes a little. "But..."

"Go to sleep."

It takes a while before she finally follows my instructions.

* * *

If I weren't so injured, I'm sure Maya would be subjecting me to one heck of a smackdown right now.

"You never should have let me sleep! Or—you could have woken me up when you thought you were feeling too woozy to stay awake! _Nick!_" She's nearly angry enough to cry. "Someone could have hurt you!"

I shrink a little, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well... no one did..."

"Don't you get it?! You have to win!" She finally lowers her fists. "You're... You're the only one who still deserves to." She turns her face to the ground, going silent. "The only one who hasn't killed anybody..."

"Wait—Maya!" I try not to get too angry myself. "If you want to talk about what people deserve... Manfred murdered innocent people, and he seemed happy enough to go after me, too. If anyone _didn't_ deserve to make it out of here, it was him. So you only gave him what he deserved—not to mention, you saved my life!"

I plant my hands on the ground, warm from the morning sun. "You are completely justified in what you did! There's no reason to believe you don't deserve to live!"

She falls silent, looking down. "Maybe not... But..." She looks up at me tearfully. "I still killed him..."

"...Yeah." I look to the side. "It's still not something you can shrug off easily... And I understand that. ...But you can't tell me that you deserve to die here!"

I take a deep breath before looking her in the eye. "I... promised to keep you safe because I thought it might somehow pay back your sister for some of what she's done for me. But, by now... I don't care whose sister you are. I want to defend you for your own sake. Maybe we haven't known each other for very long, but we still know each other well. And, Maya...!"

I point at her. "_You are a person worth protecting!_"

She covers her mouth, and it takes me a minute to realize I'm not actually pointing. My fingers just hang.

I quickly put my arm across her shoulders, but, by the look on her face, I'm sure she knows that wasn't my original intention.

"How..." She looks at the ground by her foot. "How are we supposed to do this, Nick? Fight whoever's left?"

"I'll take care of it."

She jerks. "What?! N-no! You can't! Not with your arm like that!"

"My left arm's still working fine. And, with any luck, I might not be using the baton, anyway."

"Huh? You mean... a fistfight?"

"No." Grinning, I flip my shoulder bag open and start going through it. "I mean something else entirely..."


	35. Things Will Work Out

"It'll take both of us to lead her in, though." I carefully put down a few more leaves. "Are you all right with that?"

Maya nods as I take a step back and look over the area. I can still notice a few suspicious spots, but it's not much, and I can't fix them completely.

Exhaling, I step back towards our supplies and retrieve my jacket. The sun is still shining bright, but I guess we are mostly in the shade.

"Oh!" Seeing me struggling to pull up the sleeve with my bad hand, Maya hurries over and helps.

"Thanks." I straighten out the front of the jacket and try to decide whether or not I should zip it up.

"Are you... okay?" She looks to the side. "It's still pretty hot out here... Does that just make your arm feel better?"

"Huh?" I blink. "Oh, is it warmer where you're standing?" I step over but don't notice much of a difference.

Noticing my puzzlement, Maya looks close to tears. "Nick?" She puts her freezing hand on my forehead before suddenly trying to roll up my right sleeve.

"What?" Trying not to cringe, I help her pull the sleeve back over my elbow. My arm's still wrapped up tight from my wound to my wrist, so I'm not sure what she's trying to look at.

"H-how much does it hurt?" She swallows and ducks to look at the bottom of my forearm.

"About as much as always...?" I watch her straighten up again, and then she gently squeezes farther down my arm.

"A-aah!" I nearly bite my tongue from the pain.

Maya drops my arm and jumps back. "Sorry! I..." She trails off, still wide-eyed. "Th-that's not even where you got cut! Nick, something's wrong!"

She seizes my arm again and starts pulling at the end of the bandages.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Panting, I grab her wrist before she can peel anything away. "What are you doing? For all we know, it's just something wrong with my nerves. And if... it's something worse, I don't want you catching it. Your hands haven't gotten the chance to heal up all the way, you know."

"But..." She sniffles. "But this is serious! You're already hurt a lot, because of me. You-" she fists her hands-"you could die from this, Nick! And I'm not going to let that happen!"

"Well, I'm not going to let you get hurt further, either! You're not touching my arm." I pull my elbow in towards my chest. "Listen. We'll just try to get the other tribute over here quickly, and then we won't have to worry about it getting worse for long."

I shiver and pull my jacket across me tighter. "Let's get a fire started up ahead, one with a lot of smoke. If whoever is left wants to get this over with, she ought to notice and come straight to us. Once it's started, we could try making some noise, too. And this should be over before we even have to worry about my arm getting worse. All right?"

She clasps her hands in front of her. "All right. Let's hurry."

I nod, giving her a pat on the back before going to gather the right wood with her.

* * *

I'm struggling to get a good starting flame when Maya looks up.

"Who's the other tribute left, anyway?"

"I'm... not sure." I pause to get a drink of water. "I passed out before I could see whether Wendy or Violet had died."

"So, one of them..." She looks down at the wood pile. "I hope it's not Wendy. Maybe she wasn't very nice, but..."

"Yeah."

"And Violet... Do you think she's killed people?" She watches me struggle with the not-fire for a while longer before taking the spinning stick from me and trying it out herself.

I put a hand to my chin. "She certainly gave off the impression that she would. I think she'd be serious about winning, either way. ...She'd probably tell us all about it, too." I rest my wrists on my knees. "Whichever of them comes, she probably won't charge us without a word."

Maya nods, popping her knuckles before trying to start the signal fire again.

"And that should work in our favor for this," I finish, watching an ant sidestep the toe of my shoe.

We fall silent for a while, alternately concentrating on the fire and our surroundings, and then Maya stops and looks up at me.

"What if it works?" she asks quietly.

"What? The trap?"

"Yeah." Her gaze drops.

"Well... Then it works. Then we've... both killed to survive." Shutting my eyes, I lower my head. "It's... still...wrong, but... I don't know... I guess everyone in the arena would have done the same thing by now... That doesn't make it any better, but..." I shake my head a bit. "I'm still confused about it, honestly. This whole place..."

I... can't change everything I believe in just because I'm in the arena. But... maybe, if real justice is as impossible as it seems it here... Maybe I can at least get Maya what she deserves... as far as living and dying goes. I'm not sure who's left. I'm not sure if she might actually deserve to die. But... I know Maya doesn't. So I'll fight for that.

I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.

"And then..." Maya looks to the side, the wood pile neglected for now. "It would just be the two of us left..." She turns to me, shiny-eyed. "What then?"

"Then..." I laugh a little, for some reason. "...I guess we just sit here until something happens."

She covers her mouth. "'Something happens'...?"

"They let us out, or..." Or what? Choose one of us to kill? Kill both of us?

"Or... they wait until one of us starves, or..." Her eyes go wide. "O-or your injury gets you...? Nick... You... Y-you cheater! If it comes to that, we're both supposed to have an equal chance... W-we're both..." She chokes, hugging my upper arm. "Don't die..."

I hug her back a little, but I don't know how to respond. Tell her I won't? Tell her I'll try not to? I... don't want to lie outright...

I give the both of us a minute before I nudge her gently and point at the wood pile with my good hand. "Want to... get back to this?"

She looks down but nods. "I guess... there's not much else we can do, huh?"

"I'm sorry." I squeeze her shoulder and try to ignore the throbbing in my elbow.

* * *

It's noon before we get a nice, thick plume of smoke going up. We're still close to the Cornucopia, and pretty much everything's uphill from here, so it shouldn't be hard to locate us. I have to keep a good eye out, though. She could come from any direction, and I'll need to position myself appropriately as soon as I know where she is.

I hope this works...

...I think.

Tensely, I grip the baton in my left hand. I might still have to use it. I don't know how much strength I could muster, though. We may have had a little more food recently, but I only feel weaker. Maybe it's just all of the blood I've lost recently...

Maya, up the tallest tree in the area, stays so silent it's hard to believe she's there. We could probably start chatting—it would attract a little more attention—but I don't know what to say, and it's better for neither of us to be distracted.

So, no drifting off. Keep an eye out... She could come from anywhere... I guess I'm just looking for the tribute uniform, since I don't know whose face it will be...

What condition will she be in? Surely no one could get through much of this place unscathed. It's hard to imagine that she'd be in worse condition than me, though... If I do this wrong, she'll end up attacking me, so... Gulp...

I've nearly given in to the urge to sit by the time Maya starts shouting.

"Two o' clock!" She ruffles through a few branches to look me in the eye. "It's Violet." With that, she climbs back up and starts hollering again, waving her arms. "Heeeeeey! Over here! Well, do you want to end this or not, slowpoke?"

"I... don't know if we need to be making her angry." I sweat, turning my head a little. She's coming from two o' clock, so...

I carefully step around the trap until I think I'm in the right position. This ought to do it...

So... it's White, huh...? Redd's little sister... And Mia's little sister... But the same thing won't happen twice. I won't let it.

"How close is she now?" I shout, louder than I would expect when I don't seem to be breathing.

"A-at this rate, about a minute, I think."

"Okay, go ahead and get down! Come around, behind me, hurry!"

Maya nods and scurries down the tree, hitting the ground running. She gives the trap a wide berth as she goes around it, but she stops not far behind me.

"Do I... have to keep going?"

I turn my shoulders and nod. "It won't work if she tries to go after you. You can stay close, but only if you're out of sight."

"Okay..." She clasps her hands in front of her for a second before embracing me. "We'll be all right, Nick. Both of us." She smiles up at me. "Somehow. Right?"

I hug her back. "Right."

She sniffs before hurrying away, leaving me to grip the baton hard and watch the trees ahead.


	36. Fade

I jump as the branches ahead rustle, but Violet strides out quite casually. She comes to a stop at the edge of the small clearing, gripping the zippered edge of her jacket with one hand as the other rests on her hip. Since it's supposedly so warm out today, I'm guessing she's wearing the jacket for the sake of the huge diamond pinned on it. Her district token. The same one her brother had.

To think that I brought the same badge as Mia... But I'm not wearing it now. It's still pinned to the supply bag, which is far behind me.

Anyway. This has nothing to do with that murder. I have to do everything right, now...

"So it seems I've ferreted you out at last—What was your nom de plume? Mr. Wrong?" She smiles.

"Wright." I stand my ground, some sweat trickling into my ear.

"You're in rather terribominable condition, if I do vocalize so myself, Mr. Wrong." She shrugs, still looking quite pleased with herself.

And she doesn't have many reasons not to be. Her head is a mess of purple curls by now, but she's standing comfortably, only a few small slashes on her clothes betraying injury. If she has anything serious, it must be under her long sleeves—but I suppose she could have been wearing her jacket the whole time, and her hands certainly have no trouble gripping.

Although... I've only seen her from this angle. She could still be injured somewhere I can't see. But I won't be checking just yet.

"I can still handle a fight." I hold up the baton, although my arm's quivering. "Especially against someone as slim as you."

In all honestly, she doesn't look weak at all. She does have a small frame, but you can tell at a glance that she has pretty good upper-body strength. But if I can get her to brag... If she tells me about tributes she killed, with that same smug smile on her face... Maybe I can have some evidence that what I'm trying to do is at least a little bit just.

"Oh hoh hoh." She shrugs, lifting her palms. "You'd do well not to underestimate me. I assure you that I'm quite able to pugnaciate, even this far into the Games."

I swallow. "You don't look like you've been in too many fights. I haven't heard any jabberjays talking about you, either. Where have you been this whole time?"

"Oh, I've been in this arena just as prolongedly as you, Mr. Wrong. I've merely kept myself in better shape. It's not such a diffarduous task when the extraneous tributes are so weak compared to moi."

"What 'extraneous' tributes?" I try not to lean forward too much.

She tucks her fingers back beneath the edge of her jacket. "I can't be expected to recogniate each and every nombre. I will, however, assure you that none who have fought me have escaped with their vitalities."

"I don't suppose they all attacked you first."

Smiling, she shakes her head. "Negatory. Blanco Niña does not bide her time until another happens to locaticounter her."

"So you hunted them down yourself. Just for the sake of the competition?"

"But of course. What reasifications could I have otherwise? I'm not a cold-blooded killer; I only do what I must to bring honorifics to my family name." She flashes her teeth along with the diamond. "Although our prestigiosity is already altitudinous."

"Well, then." So... it's fair to assume she has killed innocent, or at least nonviolent, people. Not even for survival's sake, but for fame. "Are you ready to try and add me to your list of victims?"

"If you're prepared to acceptify your fate." Letting go of her jacket, she reaches into her pocket and slips on a pair of brass knuckles. Not gold and diamond-studded, at least, although whatever grey metal that is could certainly still do damage. "And leave that silly girl to hers, once I'm through."

We stand where we are for a minute, my pulse pounding in my temples.

"What?" Holding up the baton, I take one measured step forward. "Waiting for me to attack first? I thought that wasn't your style."

Chin up, she watches me. "Oh, no, Mr. Wrong. I still intendicate to attack first. I would just like you to close the gap beforehand."

"I-I'm not moving any closer. Come and get me yourself."

She chortles. "I can distinguify when I'm being led into a trap. I wouldn't have survived so long in this arena otherwise, comprende?"

I grit my teeth, shooting a glance at the ground in front of me. The sun's hitting one little, exposed length of the braided wire just right, making it shine. "There's no trap. I... just want to save all of my strength for the battle itself."

"Do you truly have so little altercatibility?" She shrugs, shaking her head in amusement.

I glance at my injured arm, which still hangs by my side.

"Oh hoh hoh. That's your dominant hand, isn't it, Mr. Wrong? How injurified it looks! Is that why you're so hesiluctant to fight me?" She smiles, scrunching her eyes shut for a moment. "I hate to vanquifeat such a weakened opposer, but I suppose I'll do what I must!"

With that, she charges, not straight towards me, but around the obvious trap, towards my right side. She comes too fast for me to turn, her armed fist pulled back—

And then her left foot disappears. I doubt she notices that, but it's a little hard for her to be oblivious to the slick spot she's hit as her planted foot flies back, sending her careening forward and out of my sight.

Careful not to lose my balance, I lean back past the illusion barrier just in time to see her whack her head on the rocks of the hidden stream bank.

She cries out, clawing at the stone lip as she falls into the water. Blood is pouring out over her hair, but she's still yowling like an upset cat and trying to get a grip on the bank. She manages to get to her feet midstream, although she won't be able to stand for long with the water tugging at everything from her waist down.

Breath seething through her teeth, she tries to steady herself by putting her left hand on the bank. She looks up at me beneath the blood dripping from her bangs, her eyes wide in pain, hate, or both. She tilts forward, and I know her feet are slipping from beneath her.

She hurls her knuckle dusters straight at my forehead before she falls with a splash.

My vision flashes white when it hits, and I'm on the ground before I can register falling.

"G-gah...!" On my knees and hunched, I put a hand to my forehead and cringe. "Urk..." I... don't think it can be that bad, but... Ow...

"Nick!" A thump somewhere behind me—probably Maya... jumping over the stream.

I... don't think there's any blood... I just...

"_Wriiiiiiight!_"

I manage to look up just as a waterlogged and snarling Violet gets both feet onto the shore. She charges, hands spread open.

...! Where did the knuckles go?!

I look around—Maya's sprinting, too, but from farther away—until I finally catch the glint of the brass knuckles, just over an arm's length in front of me. Leaning forward, I try to nudge them towards me with the baton, but the knuckle-dusters only get tangled in the grass. I drop the baton and lunge.

Violet grabs her weapon first.

My fingers only brush the edge of the cold metal before she rams it into place on her right hand. I don't even get to straighten up before she makes a fist and rams it into the side of my head.

_Crunch._

Pain explodes through my skull as I go to the ground, her fist still crushing down on me. I can barely tell when she draws her hand back.

"_I will not lose to you!_" She's going to hit me again... Don't... Don't... It's... bad... e-enough...!

But a shriek stabs my ears before another punch is thrown, and the shadow looming over me disappears with a shout and a splash.

"Nick!" A hand shakes my shoulder. "N-Nick!"

Maya...?

I try to open my eyes, but it's way too bright. I get a glimpse of Maya's dark hair, though.

I-I... My head... I... It hurts... to even... breathe...

Something else in my skull bursts with pain, and that screaming—me...?—only makes it worse.

"It's okay! I-it's just me. I-I'm p-patching you up, okay?"

Is... it cloth... that she's... putting... on it? I... It hurts...

"S-stop." I reach blindly for her wrist but don't find it.

"W-what do you...?! J-just... Just take deep breaths, all right? Y-you'll be okay. I-I'll f-fix it..."

"Stop." I choke on an exhale. "It... I can't... It hurts... so much... Please, let... let me go... more quickly..."

A pause, in which I barely manage not to start screaming again.

"What... Nick... N-no! You'll be... You're not going to... Y-you... You won't... N-Nick... Don't... Please, don't..."

Don't... die...? I don't... think... I... can stop it...

I...Is this... how Chief felt...? This... pain... is...

I'm not... I know... I'm not going... to make it...

"Maya..." I try to open my eyes again, but I can't turn towards her. " 'Sokay... I... sort of... wanted this... after all. You'll... be fine... Please..." My voice is fading... or is it... just my hearing...? "Don't... be so hard... on yourself. You're worth... everything... any of us... have done for you..."

Her hand finds mine, and I squeeze it as hard as I can. She's... still crying, but she's... not arguing... There's at least that much...

I can feel the sticky blood snaking down my forehead, even when I can't see the ground in front of me anymore. My skull must be breaking into smaller and smaller pieces, the way it feels, and...

I guess this is it. As hard as I tried... I guess it couldn't have turned out any other way.

Maya... I'm sorry that this had to happen. But this... this is the end.

I... wish it wasn't... I wish... we could stay friends... for longer... But I guess it couldn't happen. Not here...

If... we had met somewhere else, without the Games... I bet we'd still make friends quickly. I'd still think you were crazy... and you'd still call me an old man...

I bet Edgeworth would still be grumpy... Gumshoe would probably exasperate us all... Mia would still have to be someone we looked up to... And Maggey... Will... Penny... The others... Maybe we could all live as friends...

We'd better not take it for granted... We'd better be grateful... to have each other. To get to _keep_ each other...

But... it can't be like that here... Here... there's... only...

...


	37. Epilogue: The Letter Desk

November 1, 10:00 AM  
District 5  
Victor's Village

* * *

"I think everything's ready..."

Seated at the letter desk in her bedroom, Maya Fey rearranged the stack of blank paper in front of her and set a pen next to it. There was plenty of stationery to go around, so, no matter who long she held on to any of them, they should have been able to write to their hearts' content. The lighting was good, her robes were on, the doors were locked, the windows shut, and she had banned Larry from the building for the day.

"Oh—wait a second."

Scooting back a little, she pulled a manila envelope from one of the top drawers. She set it to the left of the paper, where she could clearly see the "Autopsy Reports" label stretched across it. She had mainly printed it out for Phoenix's sake, but some of the others would probably want to look over it, too. She also had a video recap of the Games, but... it was pretty long, and it may have been too much for some of them. So, she would play it a little safer.

She swallowed, smoothing out the pile of writing paper again.

Was she really ready to try something like this? She hadn't successfully channeled anyone until two years after her "victory," and, even then, she had still only channeled her own sister. Multiple times, yes, but that still didn't make her an expert. What if she did something wrong? Could she end up hurting their spirits somehow? Was it really worth the risk, just so she could hear—or read—a few more words from them?

But... it wasn't entirely for her sake, right? Surely they would want to know what really happened... and maybe that she was still doing all right. She wouldn't be able to talk to them while she was channeling, but... Maybe it was a good idea to write out a little introduction for them to see.

She slipped the top paper off the stack, uncapped the pen, and wrote.

_Hi. This is Maya Fey writing. I can't hear you, or see you, or anything while I'm channeling your spirit, so I got some paper ready if you want to write anything. A letter to me, or your family, or another tribute (I'll do my best to channel the tribute for you after you do that. And I won't read the letter if it's not for me, honest!). There are more pens in the upper right drawer if you need them._

_I also have a copy of the death records for our Games, in the envelope over there. Read through them if you want to._

_I'll try to channel you as long as I can. I'm sorry if you can't finish everything before you slip back into the other world. Maybe I'll be able to do this again, if you want me to._

_I_—she paused, taking a deep breath—_miss you guys, a lot. I'm sorry if I was annoying, or selfish, or anything around you. I love all of you guys. That's why I need to do this. I can't make you write anything to me, but I would really like to hear from you._

_I've been doing all right since I became a victor. It's still hard to think about the arena, and it's a little hard to think about you guys sometimes. But I've moved in to my nice, big house—as you can see!—and I'm pretty well taken care of here._

_Welcome back to this world for a little while. Spend your time here however you want to._

She paused for a minute before signing her name and setting the pen down. That should have been a good enough introduction for everyone.

So now... was the real test. Her first time channeling someone other than her sister... But Mia had faith in her. _You've been doing a good enough job channeling me over the last year_, she had written. _I don't think you should have any problem stepping up the challenge a bit._

"Okay, Sis... You'd better be right."

With that, she let out a deep breath, shut her eyes, and focused.

* * *

Maya regained consciousness with the pen still in her hand. Rubbing her eyes—had she been squinting a lot?—she set the utensil down and took a second to recollect her senses. She was still sitting at the letter desk, which was mostly untouched. The envelope hadn't been opened by the looks of it, and her letter was pushed to the side a bit so another piece of paper could sit right in front of her. The handwriting on it was small, and in half-cursive strokes.

_Dear Maya,_

_Um, hi. I'm kind of not sure what to write. I'm kind of not sure what's going on at all, but..._

_Spirit channeling, huh? That's really cool. I didn't know things like this could actually happen. And I definitely didn't know you could do it._

_I feel I don't know much about you at all. You're nice, though, and I'm glad we got to be friends for a little bit... Actually, if you don't mind, I would kind of like to keep talking to you. I guess we could only exchange letters, but that's okay! If we can still stay friends, after what's happened to me, I want to do that. So, write me back, and hopefully I'll get to read it and reply!_

_It sounds like I'm not the only one you're planning to channel, either, huh? You're not going to channel Manfred, are you? I mean, I guess it would be all right, but if you do, be really careful, okay? If he could get up and walk around and everything... it could be bad, and he might end up hurting you somehow. Looking back at your note, I guess it doesn't sound like you're planning on doing that, but if you do..._

_You'll probably call on W.P., right? I don't know if I want to use up a whole other page of your paper to write him, but... let him know how great he is, okay? Even if I didn't end up making it very far, and even if it broke my heart, I'm really grateful for him doing so much to protect me. He didn't have to, especially when I wasn't really any good as an ally._

_And thanks to you and Phoenix for wanting to be allies with me, too. I didn't deserve to have so many people looking out for me in that kind of place. I guess it just goes to show how nice you are, too!_

_That's all I can think of writing right now. Send me a letter back, okay? Well, you know what I mean!_

_Penny Nichols_

Realizing she was gripping hard enough to crinkle the paper, Maya carefully set it down.

"Penny..." She let out a breath and swallowed. She would definitely write her back later. Definitely.

Penny didn't have to thank her, though... Why wouldn't Maya have tried to help her? In the end, nothing came of it, anyway...

But she could work that out later. There were more people to channel today... If she could handle it.

She got herself a glass of water before returning to the desk. About to put away Penny's letter, she paused. "Oh!"

Going through the desk drawers, she found a highlighter and went over the lines about W.P. Then she set up the desk again, leaving that letter out alongside her own, before closing her eyes.

* * *

The paper before her now was covered with a bold scrawl that wasn't as easy to read, but she did her best to make all of it out.

_Dear Maya,_

_Hey! It's good to hear from you! I guess you didn't end up getting hurt too badly, huh? That's good. _

_Sorry I never got to meet up with you in the arena. It's not like I meant to get hurt the way I did, but I still wish I could have been there for the rest of you guys. Looks like you didn't really need me, though, in the end. I'm not sure how it all worked out. I know the list of deaths is right over there, but... I don't really want to look at them. Not right now._

_So you made it out, huh? That's great, good job! And, with this, uh, stuff you're doing, it's like all of us get to survive a little bit, huh? That's... amazing, you know? I couldn't have wished for anything better._

_I guess I'm supposed to read that note from Penny. That's really sweet of her... But what does she mean, I "didn't have to"?! Of course I had to! Who would have the nerve to leave a girl like her all alone in the Hunger Games? One that watched my shows, not to mention..._

_Well, I guess you have other people to talk to—uh, spirits to, um, channel. I can't hog all of the time for myself, so I'll wrap things up now. Stay well, all right?_

_Will Powers_

_P.S.: Any chance you're visiting District 10 soon? I wouldn't ask, but you did comment about writing letters to our families, so I would think you could go to the other districts all right... Anyway, if you do end up over there, can you check on my acting group? I mean, you don't need to watch a lot if you don't want to, and if staying a while could get you in trouble, don't do it! Really! Just forget about all of this if it might be dangerous for you. But, if it's not, tell me how the lead is doing. I... just want to know if my replacement is doing a good enough job. If he's not, you tell the guys to replace him, stat! Maybe I can't act for them anymore, but I don't just want to leave it all behind when you've given me another chance like this, you know? I don't want a second-rate actor to ruin the kids' dreams if I can still help it._

_Not that I don't trust the troupe to do a good job, but they might be having a hard time—how long has it been since I passed? Uh, anyway. If they're still doing fine, just tell them hi, I guess. If you won't get in trouble._

Quietly putting the pages of the letter back in order, Maya dropped her gaze. It had been three years... His group was probably either broken up or recovered pretty well...

There was no reason not to check, though. District 10 had a victor she could visit without stirring up trouble. Maybe he knew about the troupe. They sounded pretty popular. How good were their shows? She could probably stick around to watch a handful if she liked them. Maybe they were for kids, but she was still just a teen.

She took a deep breath. Thankfully, Will hadn't stuck around long enough to make her very tired. A little break, a little time to put away the letters, and then she would keep going.

* * *

Edgeworth didn't write a letter to his family, but he had neatly separated a few sheets of paper decorated with crisp handwriting. The longest was addressed to Phoenix. A much shorter one was intended for Gumshoe. But Maya promised not to read those. So she wouldn't read them.

She could still ask either of them what their letters said, though...

For now, she looked over the paper headed with her name.

_Dear Ms. Fey:_

_Thank you for allowing me this time to write down a few final words. I must admit that I am not entirely sure as to how you have accomplished this, yet it is clear that you have. I will not request a second "channeling" unless you or the others deem it necessary._

_I have addressed letters to both Wright—_the word was crossed out_—Phoenix and Gumshoe if you still intend to deliver messages among us. I trust that you will not read them yourself, as you have promised. You have given me no reason to doubt you. Perhaps I did not take much time in getting to know you, but you have nonetheless proven to be a commendable, if eccentric, young woman. I am sure you will receive plenty of support and encouragement from the others, so I shall not duplicate their assessments of you here. Do not take this to mean that I think little of you; I merely suspect that I may be less articulate in expressing such sentiments myself._

_Sincerely,_

_Miles Edgeworth_

Taking a deep breath, Maya got all three letters together and locked them in the bottom drawer will Penny's and W.P.'s. She would come back to them later.

After ensuring that the pen still had a good amount of ink, she willed herself to reach the next spirit.

* * *

_Dear Maya,_

_Wow! This is really cool! I never would have imagined I would run into you again, and definitely not like this. It's good to know you're doing well. I'll try to stay in the same place here so my bad luck won't spill all over your nice house. ...The chair will probably still break. I'm really sorry if your chair breaks, sir._

_Anyway, I'm so glad to hear that you won! I guess it was still at a terrible cost, but you definitely deserved to get out of there, sir. I know everyone in our little alliance wanted to see you win. Don't feel bad about it, all right? Maybe the rest of us didn't deserve to die, but, well... It was the Hunger Games, after all. We couldn't all make it if we tried. At least the victor got to be a nice person, right?!_

_I went ahead and looked through the death records. Poor Dustin... I still can't believe he was pushed... I wrote a letter to him on the back of this, so make sure he gets to read it, okay, sir? And if he says anything back, let me know. We... didn't really get to exchange any last words..._

_And Gumshoe stepped into a trap, too, huh? That must have been really hard on you, especially after my death... I'm sorry that you had to go through all of it, sir. At least it's over, though, right? And you even get to keep talking to us!_

_As for anything else... I think that's all I have to say. As far as I can remember, I managed to say pretty much everything to you guys that I needed to, before I died. So I guess I'll leave now, sir. Feel free to call me back anytime you want to chat!_

_Maggey Byrde_

Maya tried not to cry much as she unlocked the letter drawer. Even after such a terrible death, Maggey was still so cheerful. Was she really so happy with Maya as the victor? Maggey... really hadn't seemed that upset on her deathbed, but...

Wait... Maggey said she read the causes of death... that Maya had killed Manfred... and then Maggey still called her nice...? The whole situation wasn't written down, though... How could Maggey have been so sure Maya was still a nice person?

Glancing over the letter again as she pulled the drawer open, Maya shook her head and let the tears flow. She was too tired not to. She'd have to throw in the towel soon... This took a lot of effort...

But not yet. If she could... just handle two more...

She still took a while to calm down before she switched Maggey's letter with one of Edgeworth's and shut the drawer. She could handle this...

* * *

The newest pages were written sloppily but mostly legible. Maya still had to take a minute to rouse herself before she could start reading.

_Maya,_

_Hey, pal! Good to see you! Kind of. What exactly is this, anyway? These are some weird clothes you've got me, pal. And... So, am I hungry because you're hungry, or because I'm hungry? Or is there even still a me that can get hungry? And I look like me, but it's still you, so we're both... This is making my head hurt, pal. I'm just going to move on..._

_So, you made it out after all, huh? Well, I'm glad I didn't die for nothing, pal. You'd better live a life worthy of my sacrifice! _

_Ho ho ho ho! Just joking, pal. I'm sure you will. Or, already are. How long has it been now? You don't have a calendar up or anything, so it's a little hard to tell._

_So, I guess you've already called up Mr. Edgeworth, huh? Nice letter he wrote me. Saying he only made an alliance with me because he thought he wouldn't end up wanting to be friends with me! What a joker, huh, pal? And then he said nice things about me... Jokes and compliments—I didn't know he was capable of either of those. _

_Well, send him my best wishes, all right? Send everybody my best wishes. Maggey too. Is she doing okay? Well... I mean... You know what I mean!_

_Oh, yeah, thanks for setting out the autopsy reports for me, pal. I should probably check those out._

_Looks like we figured most of them out right. Yanni... not so much, huh? Well, I guess Phoenix can't be right about everything, huh? I kind of wish he was right about that one, though... But I guess it's better to know the truth. Even if it's hard to take..._

_Listen, pal. I'm going to head out for now. I'm sure this won't be the last you'll hear from me, though. See you later, pal. Stay strong._

_Dick Gumshoe_

Maya set the letter down and lay her head on her arms for a moment.

Worthy of his sacrifice, huh? She hadn't been doing well as a mentor, and, under the Capitol's watch, there wasn't much else she could do. But... he was right. A lot of people died to get her where she was. She owed it to them to do something good... But what, exactly...?

With a shaky exhale, she reread the last part of the letter.

He had chosen to open the envelope, so she couldn't feel bad about breaking the news to him... But she could still imagine his sad, sad expression... Of course, there was nothing she could do to comfort him now that he had left. She could write something down and try to call him back, but if he didn't want to stay, she couldn't keep him here.

Especially by now. Was she really capable of channeling one more spirit? Maybe it was a better idea to wait until tomorrow... But... She had to hear from him. Surely she could manage it. Just one more... One more.

She took a deep breath, retrieved Edgeworth's other letter, and shut her eyes.

* * *

When she came back to, she could hardly open her eyes again. But more paper was filled out in front of her. Only a few pages to read... She could handle that... especially when it was from him. She picked up the letter with shaky hands.

_Dear Maya,_

_I guess you finally got a handle on being a spirit medium, huh? It's... still a little hard to believe, but here I am. It's nice to be able to move my right hand again. I guess it's technically yours, but still. I can point at things again! But I guess I have more important things to do while I'm here._

_Good to know you've been taking care of yourself. Any distant relatives coming to visit? How about Larry? I bet he'd try to help you out every once in a while. But if he starts hitting on you too much—wait, this is Larry—when he starts hitting on you too much, you let me know, and I'll smack him for you. He's not a bad guy or anything, he's just a little... lovesick. All of the time. And terrible things tend to happen to his girlfriends, so I wouldn't really recommend him._

_And don't apologize for being "annoying or selfish." You weren't! You're quirky, that's for sure, but that only helped lighten the mood a little, and we needed that in such a bleak place. You were never a burden, I'll tell you that. Try not to be so hard on yourself, all right?_

_I'll read Miles's letter next. I guess you promised not to read any of these, so I won't tell you much about it. But if you end up channeling him again, get on to him for making me cry, all right? I guess I can write him a letter back, but it's getting a little hard to stay._

_Okay, the autopsy reports. Thanks a lot for getting this together. It must have been hard to look at. I'm going to go ahead and write it out here, for the sake of driving it home, but go ahead and skip to the bottom if you need to, all right?_

_Cindy Stone. Time of death: Day 1. Cause: Loss of blood due to blunt force trauma. Murder weapon: A plain workman's hammer. Killer: Frank Sahwit._

_Jack Hammer. Time of death: Day 1. Cause: Pierced through the chest. Murder weapon: A sickle. Killer: Dee Vasquez._

_Dustin Prince. Time of death: Day 1. Cause: Broken neck. Murder weapon: A pitfall trap. Killer: Richard Wellington._

_Frank Sahwit. Time of death: Day 1. Cause: Loss of blood due to blunt force trauma. Murder weapon: An arena trap. Killer: None._

_Will Powers. Time of death: Day 1. Cause: Pierced through the chest and abdomen. Murder weapon: A broadsword. Killer: Manfred von Karma._

_Penny Nichols. Time of death: Day 2. Cause: Slashed throat. Murder weapon: A snap-off utility knife. Killer: Manfred von Karma._

_Polly Jenkins. Time of death: Day 2. Cause: Pierced through the heart. Murder weapon: A kitchen knife. Killer: Polly Jenkins._

_Yanni Yogi. Time of death: Day 2. Cause: Blood loss due to blunt force trauma.—_the ink was darker here, probably from taking longer to write out each stroke_—Murder weapon: A nightstick. Killer: Dick Gumshoe._

_Freja Charge. Time of death: Day 3. Cause: Intracranial swelling due to blunt force trauma. Murder weapon: Brass knuckles. Killer: Violet White._

_Winston Payne. Time of death: Day 4. Cause: Blood loss due to severed carotid arteries. Murder weapon: A hatchet. Killer: April May._

_Sal Manella. Time of death: Day 4. Cause: Pierced through the chest. Murder weapon: A broadsword. Killer: Manfred von Karma._

There was a large inkblot at the start of the next letter—_Miles Edgeworth. Time of death: Day 5. Cause: Poisoning aggravated by internal bleeding. Murder weapon: A tree. Killer: None._

_Piper Plumber. Time of death: Day 6. Cause: Loss of blood due to blunt force trauma. Murder weapon: Brass knuckles. Killer: Violet White._

_Lotta Hart. Time of death: Day 7. Cause: Loss of blood due to blunt force and penetrating trauma. Murder weapon: Muttation. Killer: None._

_Richard Wellington. Time of death: Day 7. Cause: Strangling. Murder weapon: A scarf. Killer: April May._

_Dee Vasquez. Time of death: Day 8. Cause: Slashed throat. Murder weapon: A throwing knife. Killer: Wendy Oldbag._

_Maggey Byrde. Time of death: Day 9. Cause: Loss of blood due to penetrating trauma. Murder weapon: An arena trap. Killer: None._

_April May. Time of death: Day 10. Cau_—the rest was spotted with dripping water splashes and nearly impossible to make out, and the remainder of the section wasn't much better.

_Di [...] shoe. Ti [...] Day 12. Cause: Electrocution. Mu [...] None._

_Wendy [...] Time of death: Day 13. [...] blunt force trauma. Murder [...] ckles. Killer: Violet White._

_Manfred von Karma. Time of death: Day 15. [...] Spinal fracture due to [...] Murder weapon: A golf club. [...] Maya Fey._

_Phoenix Wr [...] Day 16. Cause: [...] due to blunt force [...] Brass knuckles. Killer: Violet White._

_Violet White. Time of [...] Cause: Drowning. Mur [...] stream. Killer: Ma [...]_

Although the front wasn't quite filled out, Phoenix had flipped the paper over before continuing. A few teardrops from the other side had stained through, but otherwise it was clearer.

_That's a lot to take in, isn't it? It's hard to see everything written up like this... It makes the deaths seem so... routine. Maybe they almost are, in the context of the Hunger Games... but we still know there's a lot more to the story than this says. A lot more to each tribute's story, too._

_So I guess Yanni was murdered after all. I guess I didn't have any real proof to the contrary, I just..._

_And then April May, and... Okay, I shouldn't take up so much space just trying to get all of this through my head._

_But—Violet! I'm the one who killed her, not you! Even if you knocked her back into the stream and she drowned, it was only because of what I did to her beforehand! You're not shouldering her death, you hear me, Maya? I won't allow it!_

_We can talk about it more if you want. Send me a letter anytime, about anything you need to talk about. Maybe I can't hold your hand, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to leave you alone. It sounds like you've already exchanged letters with a lot of others, so I'm sure you'll be able to call me back. And if you can't... You know we all care about you, right? We didn't help you and accept your help just because it was convenient. We're glad that you're alive, and we want you to have a good life, with or without us. And I don't think you'll ever find proof to the contrary!_

_I already feel like I'm being pulled away, so I'll go ahead and wrap up. You must be exhausted after all of this. Get some rest, okay? And go treat yourself to some crazy-big hamburgers or something. Don't punish yourself for other people's choices. Just try to live your life, be yourself, be happy... All of that stuff. It may be hard, but I know you can do it. If you can believe in yourself with half the strength I believe in you, you've got this covered._

_Phoenix Wright_

* * *

Maya woke up with her arms aching. Pulling her head up, she realized that she had dozed off at the letter desk, the edge of which had dug into her forearms. She rubbed at the indentations as she sat up.

The back of Phoenix's letter was still just in front of her, one of Edgeworth's not far from it. Nothing different. She'd simply fallen asleep, and no one else had come in. Not that strange.

The edges of the window weren't letting any light in by now. She wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but probably after sunset. She had really exhausted herself, huh? But then again...

She unlocked the drawer of letters and sorted through them carefully. Those two from Edgeworth were finished, she guessed, but no reason to throw them away. Maggey still had one to give to Dustin, and maybe Penny needed to read a little of W.P.'s...

Maya slowed to a stop while all of the letters with her name were in her hands. So much had been written for her...How did all of them... have so much to say? Even Edgeworth... Even he had called her a good person...

With a sob, she pressed the letters to her chest. Everyone...

For a moment, she thought she saw them. Smiling, surrounding her, hugging her as hard as she was hugging their letters.

But it was just her.

...Or was it, really...?

* * *

THE END


End file.
